Revelations
by Numenora
Summary: Sequel to To Kiss a Prince. Set 9 years later in Mirkwood. Legolas becomes concerned when, after corresponding month after month without fail, letters from Estel stop without any explanations until the young man shows up unannounced on Legolas' doorstep.
1. Chapter 1 “An unexpected Reunion”

Revelations by Númenora

Disclaimer: Characters that you recognize are the domain of J. R. R. Tolkien and his estate and possibly others who are authorized to use them for profit (which does not include me). I am making no money from this and no infringement is intended. Any other characters that may appear are of my design and clearly pale in comparison; although these characters may have the names of other Tolkien characters from the Appendences or from other Tolkien works.

**Rating G** for this chapter

**Warning: this is Slash m/m. Again, this is a slash story; if you don't like or approve of these type stories, please do not read it. This is a simple work of fiction and is not meant to make you think, nor is it trying to be a great piece of literature. It is simply something I wanted to write and share; if you don't like it, you are welcomed to give constructive criticism, but I would appreciate it if people refrain from flaming (they serve no purpose except to be mean and juvenile).**

This work is un-betaed (all mistakes are mine).

Thoughts are in _Italics_

**Summary:** This is a sequel to _**To Kiss a Prince**. _This is set 9 years later in Mirkwood. Legolas becomes concern when, after corresponding month after month without fail, letters from Estel stop without any explanations until the young man shows up unannounced on Legolas' doorstep...

A/N: Since this is a sequel, it is recommended that you read the 1st story before reading this because of the references to incidents from it; however it can be read as a stand alone.

**Chapter One**

"**An unexpected Reunion" **

Mirkwood, August 20, TA 2951

Legolas made a very charming picture sitting on his bed, long hair unbraided and flowing, surrounded by dozens of letters scattered on the emerald green coverlet and dozens more in boxes on the marble floor of his bedroom located in the family wing of King Thranduil's most impressive underground Palace. Anyone who didn't know about elves, would have guessed him to be a young male of about 18 or 19 years (which would have been justified since, even by Elven standards, his actual age was comparable to this—though in his opinion, he was mature for his age), but he was hundreds of years older than the writer of the letters that the young Prince was re-reading.

The blue-eyed beauty smiled gently when he arrived at the last paragraph of the last letter he received from his beloved Estel:

'...I can't wait to get the birthday presents you told me in your letter you are sending me by messenger; and I promise that I will wait until my celebration dinner to open the biggest one—at least, I'll try (I'm only jesting)! The other one, I will wait until later to open in private just as you instructed. I wish you could be here with me, but I'll see you at Yule in Mirkwood. I love you, Legolas; _please_ (triple-underlined), still love me.

To my Perfect One,

Love, Estel.'

This was the 3rd time that Legolas had read this particular missive from Rivendell. It had arrived nearly four months ago—one month before Estel's 20th birthday. Legolas expected to get another letter not long thereafter, telling him about the feast Arwen planned for his big day (as she had done for every birthday since he was 2-years-old) and telling him how much he (Estel) loved his gifts, especially the ones from the Prince. But, no letters arrived at all. Estel and Legolas each wrote the other steadily—at least one letter every month. They had been corresponding for nearly 9 years since Legolas left Imladris after visiting for Yule the year the young man turned 11-years-old. The only times that they didn't write each other were the times that Legolas spent visiting The Last Homely House (When Estel was 13; again at 15 and finally when he turned 18). When this letter failed to give a clue as to why he hadn't heard from his friend, Legolas began searching other letters preceding this last one, thinking that Estel had mentioned that he would not be writing for a while after his birthday. The Twins had recently begun taking their youngest sibling with them on orc hunting patrols this last year to give him practical experience in keeping their home safe. Legolas thought that this could be the reason why—but he found nothing like this in any of them.

Legolas and Elrond's youngest were great friends and had been since that 1st Yule they spent together. While Legolas' feelings had always been a friend's fondness, Estel had developed a serious youthful crush on the blond elf; so serious, in fact, that his actions to win Legolas' heart nearly cost him his life that year. The boy had discovered an obscure lore that stated that any young male or female who kissed their first true love under a perfect bough of mistletoe on the stroke of midnight, the first morning of Yule, would capture that love's heart for all time; armed with this knowledge, he went in search of 'the perfect bough of mistletoe' and became injured in a snow storm. Thankfully, with the help of some ancient trees and his family and friends' diligence, he was saved from serious harm.

But, Legolas learned something very important from the experience; he found out that the legend of the mistletoe was true (he sweetly kissed the young human that night as stated by the lore) and that he and Estel were meant to be together for all time. During that sweetest of kisses, Legolas saw himself and the young man that Estel was to become and he knew in that moment that his heart belonged to that tall, dark and rugged adan. So, from that time onward, he vowed to nurture a friendship and to try to guide and protect the boy until he was old enough to choose his own path of true love. Finally, on the day of Estel's 18th birthday, they fell truly and deeply in love with each other as they kissed in the forest beneath the great elm tree where Estel had discovered the mistletoe that sealed their fate.

The blond Prince lovingly re-folded the letter he had been holding and proceeded to put away all the letters scattered about him. The smile, that graced his face as he revisited the words of the man he loved, vanished when the worry that prompted him to gather them in the first place resurfaced. _Why haven't you written to me, Estel? It is not like you to go so long without communicating with me. Not even when you were recovering from a bout of food poisoning your 16th year did you fail to tell me about it. What has happen, my love?_ Legolas knew that if anything physical had befallen the young Man, Lord Elrond, the twins Elladan or Elrohir, or Arwen would have sent word of it. No—something else was the cause.

"Perhaps I should go to Imladris and see for myself. Estel wouldn't necessarily say anything to his family if he were troubled by some personal matter or was troubled emotionally. What if he didn't like or approve of my gift...if he found it too personal?" Legolas' brow furrowed at that thought. _Perhaps, if I hadn't given him my mother's jewel_...

Just then, a knock sounded at his door, "Your Highness, your father sent me to fetch you for dinner. My I enter?" Fingolfin, who was a member of the palace guard, stepped inside the spacious room at Legolas' acquiescence. "You are not dressed, my Prince."

"I fear that I've been a bit preoccupied; please tell my ada that I will be down in about fifteen minutes and ask him to please start without me?" He said as he quickly brushed and braided the hair at his temples and bent to don his soft-leather boots.

As the other elf left, The Prince's mind swiftly returned to his beloved Estel and the possible reasons for his lack of communication. He was no closer to figuring it out by the time he arrived in the family's private dinning room, however.

King Thranduil, the Elvenking of Mirkwood, greatly loves his four children and he is very proud of them. His oldest is Oropher, the Crowned Prince (named after his heroic grandfather): Of all the children, he looked the most like his Adar. He is tall and impressive with hair of spun gold and the two of them look more like brothers than sire and son. The next oldest is Indis, the King's only daughter. As such, one would have thought that she would be the very image of her mother, but other than her delicate complexion (which she and Legolas shares) and her red-gold hair (from her paternal grandmother), she, too, takes after her father.

The next in line is Elurín. He, like his older siblings, has Thranduil's green eyes and his ada's strong physique (although his hair is a lighter golden hue). His age is the closest to Legolas, having reached his majority 300 years before; however, he is the most carefree and less serious of all, which gives the impression that he is actually the youngest of the Royal family. Finally, there is Legolas who _is_ actually the 'baby' of the family and a living testament to his mother: like hers, his hair is silver in hue and he is the only one of her offspring who possesses her blue eyes. The entire Royal family was said to be blessed with fine looks, even among elves, but Legolas' looks are stunning and is without compare anywhere. He has his mother's fine bone structure and her ethereal beauty that transcends gender. He also possesses her level-headedness that makes him seem older and more mature than his age; but he also managed to inherit his father's stubbornness which oftentimes gave rise to many clashes between the two of them.

In fact, the entire family could hold their own when it came to arguments and disagreements, but they were truly a close-knit unit. The King was mindful of how little time he had to spend with children, being the one and only ruler of Mirkwood; to that end, he insisted that he have at least one meal per day to spend with them and that meal generally fell at dinnertime. When his youngest son failed to arrive at the table by the time he himself had, he sent young Fingolfin to spur him on. But the youngest Prince was there only physically it seemed, so the Monarch was determined to find out what had Legolas so pre-occupied.

"Greenleaf, is there a reason why you find your siblings and poor Adar uninteresting?" The King inquired. "Legolas...Legolas! What is the matter, ion-nin?"

Realizing that all eyes were on him, 'Greenleaf' blushed apologetically and turned to face his parent. "I sorry, Adar; I was lost in thought. Could you repeat your question?"

"Which one, Gwador? Ada asked you several questions," Oropher said helpfully.

"I think Legolas should answer the last one and then work backwards, what do you think, Adar?" Indis suggested.

"I think that you and your brothers should be more considerate of Greenleaf's serious state; something is obviously of concern to him. And before you speak, Elurín, I realize you that you haven't joined the others in teasing our youngest, but it was inevitable that you would be next."

Elurín tried to look hurt, but failed miserably when everyone at the table laughed and he joined in.

"It's Estel. As you know, he and I have been writing letters to each other for a long time; but, I have not heard from him for three long months and I have become concerned that something terrible has befallen him."

"Estel is Elrond's human ward," it was a statement. "I was aware that you had cultivated a friendship with the boy, but why the concern? You know that mortals feel time differently than Elvenkind; he probably has simply lost interest in corresponding. Think nothing of it, ion-nin." The King had no idea how his innocently spoken words, meant to alleviate his child's serious mood, served only to compound the fear that that _was_ the case.

"But, Estel loves me and I him; he wouldn't simply lose interest in me! Not after all the time that we've invested in each other and our relationship." He cried out distraught.

The gathered family members looked at each other in shock and concern at this for they had no idea that Legolas had romantic feelings for this Estel—or anyone else for that matter, although many elves, both male and female, have expressed romantic interest in him. Legolas never seemed interested in such entanglements. The siblings began to think that they would have to readjust their opinions of their young brother.

"Explain yourself, Legolas. You and this adan have feelings for each other...for how long?" The King's jovial mood had fled.

"I've always had feelings of love for him, but it has only been the past two years that our love has matured; he and I have promised ourselves one to the other. In his last letter, he re-affirmed his love for me and his pledge to remain true to me. I also, promised to wait for him—until he reaches his majority so that we can formally pledge our troth."

"I see...and does he plan to wait for you to reach your majority to return the favor? I suppose that he has a spare 200 years to wait for you?" All thought of food and dinner was totally forgotten as Thranduil attempted to keep his anger under control.

"It is not the same, Adar; I am old enough to decide to whom I want to bind myself. You said yourself that Naneth was about my age when you two became betrothed." Legolas pointed out.

"I also had the luxury of immortality to wait for her; this is hardly the case for this young man, descendant of Númenor or not!" Legolas' siblings knew that no one would be eating any time soon. It was always the case whenever an argument between members of the Royal Family, especially between Legolas and Thranduil, arose.

"That is hardly fair, Adar. Estel is..." Legolas' response was interrupted by an urgent knock on the double doors leading to the room in which the family was 'dining.'

"Enter," the King said impatiently. The same guard to who delivered the King's message to Legolas earlier (Fingolfin) stepped close to his King and bowed low before speaking.

"Your Majesty! Members from one of the forest's outer patrols have arrived in the courtyard with a trespasser, Sire—A human male who refuses to explain his presence in Mirkwood. He is insisting that he will explain himself to no one but you or Prince Legolas. In fact, according to the captain, he has been asking for the Prince continually since he was discovered."

Upon hearing this, Legolas knew that it could only be the love of his life, "Estel... Adar, it has to be Estel!" With that, he fled the table and his family's company.

"Greenleaf, wait," The Elvenking shouted, but his youngest had already gone. Following close behind, the Elven ruler bade the guard attend him. It didn't take long for the rest of the Royal Family to trail behind as well.

The sun had not yet set in the courtyard, but it was low on the horizon, bathing the space in a golden hue. The setting should have been ideal for a reunion between the young lovers (for it was indeed Estel Elrondion in Mirkwood), but the commotion that accompanied the elves' attempt to detain the surprisingly strong human was at odds with glorious display.

Legolas was so relieved to see the object of his thoughts of the past few months that he practically floated down the steps to reach his beloved. He spoke to the guards still struggling with the human with an authority that, at any other time, would have made the King proud, "Unhand him at once!"

The guards hesitated only a moment before following the Prince's command. With a beautifully relieved smile, Legolas asked the disheveled mortal as he embraced him, "Estel...I'm been so worried. Are you well, my Love?"

Without returning the embrace, the young man said in a cold manner the he had never before used with the elf holding him, "The name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn II—but, you knew that, didn't you?"

TBC


	2. Chapter 2 “Forgiveness”

Revelations by Númenora

Disclaimer: Characters that you recognize are the domain of J. R. R. Tolkien and his estate and possibly others who are authorized to use them for profit (which does not include me). I am making no money from this and no infringement is intended. Any other characters that may appear are of my design and clearly pale in comparison; although these characters may have the names of other Tolkien characters from the Appendences or from other Tolkien works.

**Rating PG-13** for this chapter

**Warning: this is Slash m/m. Again, this is a slash story; if you don't like or approve of these type stories, please do not read it. This is a simple work of fiction and is not meant to make you think, nor is it trying to be a great piece of literature. It is simply something I wanted to write and share; if you don't like it, you are welcomed to give constructive criticism, but I would appreciate it if people refrain from flaming (they serve no purpose except to be mean and juvenile).**

Chapter two

"Forgiveness"

A/N: Since I have no idea what month or time of the year Aragorn was born, I will take some liberties and have it fall in the Spring in April. This is un-betaed (all mistakes are mine).

This work is un-betaed (all mistakes are mine).

Thoughts in _italics_

denotes a **Flashback**

Legolas paced nervously back and forth in the elegant guest room normally reserved for visiting royalty, ambassadors or other dignitary. His Adar had allowed him to choose a room for his mortal friend instead of throwing insolent young man in the dungeons as was the King's first instinct. 'Imagine this young whelp daring to trespass in my realm uninvited!' The Prince's parent raved as the Royal Family and the 'uninvited' guest entered the palace.

Legolas had then pulled his father aside and he eventually convinced his King to be lenient for his (Legolas' sake). Reluctantly, he agreed. With a few words of sympathy and looks that clearly read 'better you this time' from his siblings (who will surely want a full accounting later), Legolas ordered several servants to ready the guest quarters in the family wing.

He and Estel (or Aragorn as he had been informed earlier) stood awkwardly just inside the room as a bath was made ready and the bed was stripped and re-made very efficiently and in record time. Estel's pack had been retrieved and was now laying open as the young man searched through it to get some needed items.

"Why don't you give your spare traveling clothes to Amarië; she can retrieve the ones you are wearing later, Est...Aragorn. There should be a robe inside near the tub for you to wear in the meantime..." Legolas' voice trailed off at the barely civil stare being directed at him from the young man. Swallowing nervously, he directed a request to the auburn-haired elleth Amarië standing patiently nearby, "Why don't you go and find some clean clothes for our guest; thank you." She and one other servant were the only ones still present.

The female maidservant curtsied and exited the room nearly the exact moment the other one walked out from the bathing chamber. Mablung, an elf who had been in service to King Thranduil since the time of Oropher (the King's Adar), announced that the bath was ready. The old elf smiled gently in the proper manner of one of his station and waited to assist the (grubby) dignitary (why else would he be in this privileged space?).

With a half-amused/half-annoyed lifting of Aragorn's brow aimed at the blond Prince, Legolas said quietly, "It is his duty to act as valet to anyone occupying this suite of rooms."

"Really? I mean no slight to you, sir, but I can carry on unassisted. If you will wait but a moment, I will hand you the rest of my things." Mablung left soon after gathering the soiled garments and Legolas was left to ponder what he would say to Estel...Aragorn..._I don't even know what to call him!_

The young Prince was in a terrible state; his one and only love hadn't said two words to him after informing him of his name change and accusing the elf of some perceived betrayal. Only Estel (or whoever!) could make him feel this vulnerable. He never minded being vulnerable around the young man because he never exploited the situation. But this was the first time feeling this way was a disadvantage for Legolas.

The belief that he was losing the one he loved struck with a vengeance and his pacing faltered_. I better sit down and wait; perhaps after he gets clean and Estel rests, we can talk about what is upsetting him._ Drawing his knees to his chin, Legolas closed his eyes. He barely acknowledged the returning Amarië with fresh clothes along with another servant with food enough for two. He elected to think back to the last time he was in Rivendell with his Sweet One and everything was right between them...

**/Flashback: **

April 18, TA 2949

"It won't be long, now, Legolas; just keep hold of my hand. Estel said to the stumbling elf.

"I don't need to be blindfolded, Estel. You want our destination to remain secret—this I understand. But I can keep my eyes closed until we arrive," the blond Prince said reasonably.

"The blindfold is a precaution. My surprise is very special and I don't want you to see it until just the right moment!" The young mortal said with glee.

"Estel—perhaps other humans are not aware of this, but, for the most part, elves are very trustworthy people. We can be trusted to follow directives both simple and complex. There is no reason to doubt my sincerity when I promise to keep my eyes closed!" Legolas said through gritted teeth as he stumbled for what seemed the thousandth time.

The dark-haired adan chuckled at the uncharacteristic display of pique from his companion. "I know that you are sincere and I trust you with my life; I also know that most elves are trustworthy people, but you forget—I grew up in the company of two very curious and often mischievous identical brothers who suffer from lapses in their normal exemplary Elven behavior. You and they are very good friends and they have the habit of influencing other elves in ways that these elves themselves wouldn't normally allow. For instance, would you believe that they convinced Erestor to try and drink a glass of miruvor wine while standing on his head right after they managed to convince him to drink too much in the first place? So, forgive me for being a bit precautious…you spend much more time in their company than Erestor and he is old enough to be their parent!" The entire time that Estel had been making his case while recounting the miruvor incident, Legolas had been laughing as he imagined the scene. He knew that his friend had a point when it came to Elrond's Twins. He himself had witnessed similar incidents during his years of acquaintance with Elladan and Elrohir.

"Very well," The Mirkwood native laughed. "You have made your case. I hope that we get there soon because I fear that the ground may come up to greet me any moment now, the way I keep stumbling and tripping."

"It is not much further, your Highness. But, you are right about the ground—I don't want you falling. So…" With a swift motion, the handsome young man turned to Legolas, placed the picnic basket he'd been carrying in the slender hand of his companion and swept him off his feet—literally. It was very easy to gather the Prince into his arms since the elf weighed practically nothing and the human was quite strong for an eighteen-year-old.

"Estel! It is not necessary for you to carry me as if I'm an infant. This is highly unusual…I'm…I'm…" The Prince was nonplussed; but, he was secretly very thrilled being this close the very attractive man. With one hand gripping the basket handle and the other wrapped around the smoothly muscled shoulder of his bearer, Legolas continued, "I'm not an elfling or a helpless female, my Lord. And, why are you surprising me, anyway—it is your birthday, is it not? All surprises should be yours today."

"To answer your question, I felt like giving you a surprise. Also, I know very well that you are no infant, elfling or helpless female—you aren't helpless in any capacity. You are, however, at a disadvantage not being able to see and I am more than capable of carrying you. Just think of this as being a special gift to me—holding you this way and having you all to myself."

The Prince didn't know what to say to this, so he merely smiled (and blushed like a maiden to his detriment). "So, what did you pack for our lunch?" He said to change the subject.

"Berries, nuts, cheese, muffins and sweet cider. I was warned by both Cook and Arwen not to feed you too much since you don't eat enough and they have planned a very elaborate feast for my party tonight. I think that they nearly forgot themselves and were about to admonish me not to eat too much as well—that is until common sense took over. They were too wonderful to behold!" Then, a minute later, Estel said, "Look, Legolas, we're here!" Sheepishly, he added a second later, "Sorry..."

"You should be, Young One." Estel growled (as Legolas knew he would) at the endearment that his Ada Elrond bestowed on him long ago. Reluctant to remove his arm from around the 'young one,' he asked, "Could you remove my handicap, now? I'd like to see where we are."

"Your wish is my command, my Prince." When the cloth had been untied, the blond beauty blinked his eyes several times to clear his vision.

When he could finally see clearly, he turned his head back to look into the blue-green eyes of the one still carrying him. "This is where you found the mistletoe and where we found you nearly frozen and unconscious." At his friend's nod, he asked, "Why here?"

"This is where my life changed—where I feel that I stopped being a child and found the means to seal my future to yours. You probably think that I'm still that child saying such things—a silly child at that." It was Estel's turn to blush this time.

"I have never thought of you as silly, my Sweet One. I have always found you to be attentive and courteous and you have always made me feel worthy of the title I was born with." Legolas said sincerely. He suddenly felt a bit silly himself when he realized that he was still in Estel's arms. Then he became mortified when he discovered that he really wanted to stay where he was. Blushing again (this was getting to be a habit), he said with uncharacteristic shyness, "You can put me down, now. There is little chance of me stumbling since we have arrived."

"I know that I can or should put you down, but I'm not sure if I want to do so. As I said before, I like holding you this way and having you all to myself. Let us move closer to my old friend, the elm." As they approached the ancient tree, it began to shake its leaves and branches in greeting. "Hello, friend elm; look who I brought to see you." The human spoke.

"Hello there, Old One. It is good to see you once again." Swallowing a bit of disappointment when he is finally placed on his on two feet, Legolas ran his hands along the trunk of huge tree in greeting. His disappointment was short-lived as he realized that his handsome friend had no plans to move away from his side. In fact, they stood so close that neither had any trouble feeling the body heat of the other.

"Why don't we sit on this side facing the brook?" As the two rounded the considerable girth of the trunk, Legolas was pleasantly surprised to see a blanket already there. Amazingly (or perhaps not since this particular tree was obviously still quite fond of Elrond's youngest), there was not a single leaf or branch on the surface of the striped soft wool—as if it had only just now been laid out instead of hours earlier.

"You've thought of everything it seems. I like my surprise, Estel."

"I'm glad, but there is more—I hope you approve." The dark-haired male retrieved the basket that the Prince still carried and set it down on the blanket and then, "Shall we?" indicating that they sit down. When both were seated, they stared shyly and a bit timidly in each other's eyes.

Legolas was the first to speak after they broke out in nervous laughter at the absurdity of the situation. "You said that there were more surprises—what are they?"

"Impatient Prince, what am I to do with you?" The laughter seemed to release them from their awkwardness and Estel moved closer to his Perfect Prince. "I want to tell you some things now before the day erupts into revelry and leave us with barely a moment to ourselves—some important things. I am not sure how you will react to what I will say, but I must say them. Firstly, I am so very happy that you are here with me again. I have missed you so much. Everything that I do or have done, whether I was conscious of it or not, is because of you. Somewhere in my mind I am always thinking 'what would Legolas think of this or what would he do in my place?' You inspire me to be the best Estel, the best person, period. Thank you."

The Prince was too touched to respond right away. _You are the perfect blend of the boy you were just a short time ago and the man that you have become, Estel—truly amazing!_ "You honor me with your words and sentiment. I don't know how I earned such loyalty from you when I've done nothing to deserve it."

"How can you say that?" The 18-year-old exclaimed incredulously. "Don't you know how special you are—which is why a small boy could fall in love with you and remain so all these years?"

"I can hardly take credit for that, Mellon-Nin; my appearance is by the Grace of the Valar and through the traits inherited from my parents. That you should admire me for it—it is too generous."

"You truly don't see your worth, do you? The child that I was may have been in awe of your incredible beauty and might have kept that crush for a few months or a year or two, but what made me love you unconditionally and so deeply all this time, was your true self, Legolas. You could have made me feel like fool for presuming that I, a mortal boy, could make you, an Elven Prince, fall in love with me. You let me follow you around like a love-sick puppy and you never became annoyed or tried to ignore me. You answered every question and you were genuinely interested in what I had to say. No question or opinion was too silly and you never once laughed at or looked down upon me, even though you had every right. You always had amazing patience with me, staring me straight in my eyes when we talked.

"Do you remember the first time we met—that first night in the Hall of Fire? I asked you so many questions about Mirkwood and about the famed treasure that your ada was said to have hidden away. Adar and Arwen were mortified and begged me to leave you be; but you told them that it was alright. You told me about the time when your father and the Dwarves (who were great miners and hoarders of gems, gold and mithril) were still very close; how they built the Underground Palace that you and your family called home. You explained that the rumored treasure was just a myth according to your father, but that you as an elfling led your friends on many treasure hunts looking for it. You recounted many stories of your childhood to me; some of them I had the feeling that you never told anyone outside of Mirkwood about—not even my siblings. I could go on and on with examples of your kindnesses, Legolas, but I think that you are beginning to understand my affections a bit more.

"You are beautiful, yes; so beautiful that you steal my breath away. But, it is the person you are inside and that beautiful heart you possess that make me love you more every day. And I do love you, My Perfect One. This is the real surprise that I had planned for you; I wanted you to know that I love you no longer as a child would—I love you with the love and passion of an adult. I do not expect you to love me in the same manner. I know that you care for me and have for all the years that we have known each other—this is enough for me. I only ask that you allow me to continue to love you and I promise that I won't try and force you to say or feel anything that you don't want to do." The whole time that the future King of Gondor spoke, he had been caressing the soft skin on the wood-elf's face—his prominent cheekbones; his soft, shapely lips and the tiny braids at his temples. Legolas found himself overwhelmed—both by the revelations Estel confessed to him as well as by the sensuous touches he was experiencing.

"Estel I...I can't..." The blond was having trouble forming his thoughts. "Please..."

"Shhh, Legolas; it is okay. I meant what I said. You aren't expected to reciprocate my feelings." The Prince could hear the heartache in handsome mortal's voice and his signature confidence began to falter.

"No, Estel, it is not that." Legolas grabbed hold of the hands still exploring his face. "I need for you to stop touching me for a few moments so that I can put more than two words together."

Estel smiled tentatively as the beautiful elf held his hands against his heart (which the human noticed was racing). "Alright, your Highness."

"Please don't call me that; I keep expecting my brother Oropher to appear. I'm simply Legolas...your Legolas. I am so flattered by your proclamations—no, don't interrupt me or I'll never be able to tell you what I am feeling. What I am trying to say is that I have done you a disservice, Estel. I have accused you of being shallow when I should have known better. You were always an intelligent child with a depth that was missing in most centuries-old elves. I should have known that you would look beyond my physical appearance. Please forgive me for that."

"I could forgive you anything."

"Good...that makes me happy. Now I will tell you something that I have been waiting to tell you for about nine years: Do you remember when I kissed you under the mistletoe?"

"You jest, surely? How can I not? It was the greatest night of my life and it one of the reasons I brought you here today—to celebrate that moment." Estel explained, no longer fearful his Prince would reject him.

"Did you see anything when I kissed you?"

The young man hesitated before answering; Legolas had never made him feel foolish even in the face of some outrageous suggestions or observations he made in the past. But he wasn't sure if he should answer truthfully this time.

"Estel?" At the sincere look upon the wood-elf's face, he relented.

"I saw us; at least, I saw you and a man who could have been me. He was kind of fuzzy; you may not have noticed, but you tend to draw my attention away from all others. There was mistletoe and kissing. There was also death and sadness, but I felt that we were happy in spite of it. Then there was dancing under the stars and I was so blissful and content holding you. I thought that it was my wild, child's imagination." Estel was relieved to finally admit this to Legolas.

"It wasn't your imagination unless we both imagined the same things. I saw everything you saw and I fell in love with the man that I saw—that man was you. I have waited most patiently for you to grow up and tell how I feel about you. I love you with all my heart and all that I am; and I want to be with you for as long as the Valar allows." The Prince released the hands that he'd been holding and placed both of his on the slightly stubbled face of his 'new' love.

Estel smiled crookedly and asked, "Do you suppose that there is mistletoe above us?"

"Anything is possible. In fact, I may see a perfect bough just up there," Legolas said, pointing a slender finger. He then traced that same finger along the full lower lip of his companion. "What are we to do—or what are you to do? I seem to remember that the last time we found ourselves under mistletoe, I kissed you. I _think_ that it is your turn, now."

"_I_ think that you are correct in this!" Estel generously agreed. Replacing his hands so that they could continue their previous explorations, he moved his head closer to the blond elf sitting very close to him. He let his lips follow his fingers, kissing every place they caressed—the forehead; each temple; each heavily-lashed eyelid; one perfect nose; one cheek, then the other; both jaw-lines, then to the chin; then up to the loveliest set of pointy ears. "How am I doing, Meleth-Nin?"

Smiling at the endearment and trying desperately not to swoon, Thranduil's youngest answered, "That was very nice—extremely nice, in fact. But I believe you forgot the most important place, my love."

"Ai, of course!" The bold younger male picked up the Prince's two slender hands from where they had come to rest during his near-swoon (Estel's chest) and patiently began to kiss each and every digit one by one, paying special attention to the smallest ones. From there, he placed reverent kisses on each palm and then each pale wrist before working his way up the right arm to the neck and then the left one in turn. Smiling at his accomplishment (and his obvious effect on the elf), he inquired of the panting blond, "How was that?"

"That was very nice, too, but shame on you for fishing for compliments!" He was stalling to gain his breath back. "You are still missing the mark, young man."

"Don't take that archery instructor's tone you use with me on the practice range!" Estel mock scolded.

"My instructions and tone have made you a better archer, has it not? It seems that you are in need of tutoring in the art of kissing, so I will instruct you!" Legolas was enjoying his jest for he knew that the young man ravishing him needed no instructions whatsoever. "Think back to that night of Yule when I kissed you; where did I place my lips?" He said in his best teacher's voice.

"That night was something of a blur—I almost died, you know. I'm sorry, Legolas...don't be sad. You and Ada and my friend here save me." A brief shadow passed over wood-elf's visage for a split second, but Estel saw it. He kissed the Prince's right temple again which earned him a beautiful smile. "Where were we? Oh, yes; I was lying in bed in the Houses of Healing dreaming of mistletoe and cerulean blue eyes and silver-blond tresses. Then I smelled cream and honey and sweet berries and I heard the sweetest singing imaginable. Then I heard what I never thought I would live to hear—my Perfect One said that he wanted to kiss me and he did just that. He kissed me sweetly upon my lips. Aha! Now I remember. Come here, Lovely One." Wrapping his arms around the slender waist that Estel imagined was made to fit into his embrace, he pulled Legolas closer, breathing in the sweet familiar scent. Legolas met him half way and they met in a kiss that was both tender and savage in its simplicity.

The kiss wasn't demanding at first; it seemed content to allow the two beings to get use to touching. After what seemed like years, or only seconds, Estel wanted more and ran his tongue along the soft Elven ones against his, inviting his counterpart to do the same. Shyly, it did so; meeting the human organ out in the open, tasting and teasing (each male wondering where the other had learned such maneuvers).

Growling, the human male pushed impatiently, but gently into the elf's mouth to savor more of him. If anyone had asked Legolas before this day (in Estel's company) if it were possible for Elves to swoon, he would have answered in the negative; but it seems that he had been fighting the sensation all afternoon which had now becoming a loosing battle.

_Oh, just give in, elf...it feels so good!_ It was now Legolas' turn to wrap his arms around the man kissing him with such passion; he threaded his hands through the dark unruly tresses, molding his palms to the skull underneath. He couldn't get close enough it seemed and he found himself in Estel's lap, straddling his waist.

Estel wasn't sure how he lost control of the kiss and he couldn't have cared less in that moment. He had everything he'd ever hoped for—the elf of his dreams in his arms (on his lap), devouring him with abandon and totally in love with him. All was total bliss.

Until...

The eyes of both the current Prince and future King flew open in the same moment. They were breathing hard and trembling and they were quite aware that they both were completely aroused and intimately pressed against one another. _How did my hands end up on Legolas' bottom? _Estel thought.

And Legolas, _How _did_ I get into his lap?_ "I think...

"...Yeah," The 18-year-old agreed and they reluctantly untangled themselves one from the other awkwardly.

"What did you bring to drink? I find I'm quite thirsty," The elf asked huskily, clearing his throat as he tried to straighten his half-unbraided hair.

"Sweet cider, remember?"

"Yes, of course...I remember." Opening the container, he offered some to Estel who was also trying to make himself presentable again.

"No, thank you. My thirst has been slaked." At the curious, uncomprehending look on the other's beautiful face, he elaborated with a mock-wolfish leer, "With elf..."

Legolas blushed for the millionth time that day (_this is getting to be bothersome!_) and grabbed a handful of nearby leaves and twigs and threw them at the unrepentant young man which sparked him to reciprocate in the same manner, causing them to erupt into another bout of laughter, again breaking the awkwardness between them.

"It is amazing," Estel said pulling his love close to him.

"What is so amazing besides you?"

Snuggling closer, the mortal said, "It is amazing how I forget all about food and drink—you know how I love my food—when you are with me. I care nothing for the mundane things in life unless they are connected to you. Why is that?"

Legolas laughed at the statement concerning Estel's love of food; Elladan often claimed that the young man was not only part Númenórean—the other part was pure Hobbit. "It is because you are in love me which I find to be the _amazing_ thing. You are not alone in this; I too find no interest in the mundane when we are together. I am quite content to sit here in your arms listening to the beat of your heart."

"Will you sing to me? You know how I love your singing."

Laying his head on the smoothly muscled shoulder of his love, The Prince began to sing. They stayed like that until they were compelled to return to the Last Homely House to prepare for birthday celebrations.

Legolas and Estel's love for each other grew from that day and they savored every moment together until the Prince had to return to Mirkwood the first of September.

**End Flashback/**

The wood-elf's feeling continued to deepen over the next three years and he never doubted that the two of them would share their lives forever. But that was ending it seemed; his Estel—his Aragorn—no longer seemed to care for him.

Unbeknownst to the Prince, Estel too was reminiscing about happier times. He had had nearly four months to come to terms with the revelation of his heritage until he learned that Legolas had known his secret just as his family had and had elected to keep it from him.

**/Flashback**

April 18 and 19, TA 2951

His 20th birthday was one of the best days of his existence and it only got better when he finally retired to his room. He sat upon his bed holding the small package from Legolas; and at the last moment before his birthday ended when the wood-elf said he would be thinking only of him, Estel opened the present and removed the mithril locket-pendent. It was of a delicate design with a blue stone that was the same color as Legolas' eyes. What was inside the locket, protected on both sides by fine crystal, were two locks of silver-blond hair—one finer than the other.

As he read the note accompanying the gift, he learned that the finer lock was from infant Legolas' head and the other was his mother's hair. She had given each of her children a similar jewel (the others had emeralds like their eyes) and bade them to cherish and keep it safe until they decided to give it to someone they loved—a mate or a child of their own.

Legolas gave his to Estel and he was touched beyond words, while counting the days until they were together again. Everything was right and perfect until the next day when Lord Elrond called him into his study and told him that he was the long-lost Heir of Isildur and that his future was tied to that of all mankind and all of Middle-earth.

"You are the hope of the world, Estel. That is why I named you thus. But you must take the name that you were born with and embrace your heritage," the Lord of Imladris told him.

Still in shock, he asked his foster-father, "What name _was_ I born with?"

"Aragorn and your father was Arathorn and your mother is Gilraen of the Dúnedain rangers."

"She is alive?" At his ada's nod, he inquired further, "Where is she. Why did she leave me here alone?"

Raising his voice slightly, Elrond exclaimed, "You were never alone! Your brothers, Arwen and _I_ loved you and cared for you. And your mother...your mother struggled long and hard about leaving you here. You probably don't remember, but she was here until you turned 5; she slowly weaned you from her and let Arwen care for you daily while she took a less active role. She decided to return to her people and let you become Estel, the mortal ward of Rivendell. It was for your protection; the Forces of Evil would have hunted you down and destroyed you the way they destroyed your father Arathorn ll. We thought it best that everyone think you died along with your sire. And...and we felt it best for you to think that she too had died until the time was right for you to know all."

"I see," The young man said dully. Getting up from his seat in front of Lord's ornate and cluttered desk, he mumbled something about needing to think and left the study. For weeks, he withdrew from his family. No one—not the Twins, not Arwen nor Elrond—could reach him enough to bring back the carefree young man they had raised for the past eighteen years.

Then out of the blue, one month and a half after he learned the truth, he asked his brothers to take him to see his mother. Though Elrond was reluctant to do so (he was honest enough with himself to admit that he feared losing his son to his birth parent although he cared for her), he agreed to allow it—not that he could have stopped Aragorn from going (alone if pressed). He wanted him to become the man he was born to be; at least he tried to convince himself that he did.

Later...

"When will you be leaving, ion-nin?" Estel was in the garden just beyond the Hall of Fire.

"In two days. Elrohir tells me that we should go as soon as possible while it's still Summer since I am not sure how long my visit in Eriador will be. This will give me plenty of time to get back before the weather changes—I plan to be in Mirkwood in mid to late Fall before the snows block the mountains."

"You plan to stay away from home for so long?" Elrond tried not to sound too disappointed.

"I'm not sure how long I will be gone, but I will return here before going to Mirkwood to be with Legolas." Estel then said guiltily, "He must be so worried about me since I haven't written to him yet. I don't know what to say to him about this...how he will react to the news of all of this. I feel like such a fraud! I am no longer the man he fell in love with; I am the heir of an accursed lineage."

"Legolas loves you and he will accept you; that will not change just as you haven't changed. Please remember that, although Isildur failed Middle-earth, not all of your ancestors—which includes my beloved brother Elros—failed or betrayed anyone. You are an honorable young man and anyone—including Legolas—would be blessed to have you. I love you, Estel; I know that you don't feel loved right now—I understand that. But you are and I and your siblings are most proud of you. You just need time; take all that you feel necessary and I will be here when you return." Embracing the somber son, the Lord left the garden.

Two days later, they left. It took them nearly four weeks to find Gilraen; she had left her home to travel with the rangers who were crossing the deserted lands of Minhiriath and Tharbad, headed near to Mordor. Apparently several small villages of people were trying to resettle these lands once devastated by the Great Plague and were now being plagued by Orcs. Some of these people Gilraen had known when she and Arathorn first met. The Dúnedain were headed there to rid the settlers of the foul creatures. Once there, there was little time for Aragorn to speak with his mother the way he wanted to; but after the worse of the Orc bands were destroyed and the others had fled (which took the better part of a month), mother and son were able to talk. She managed to make him see why the secrecy was necessary and why she felt she had to leave him in Rivendell. Her kind, gentle ways managed to help him to try and understand why Elrond kept the secret from him so long.

Everything fell apart, however when he told her of his love of the Mirkwood Prince, Legolas. He was extolling his love's virtues and how he (Aragorn) felt no longer worthy of the blond elf. He told her that he knew that King Thranduil hated Isildur for his weakness; a weakness that not only betrayed Isildur's own slain father, Elendil, but The King's own Adar as well as his friend Gil-galad, King of Imladris. "Legolas is sure to reject me, now; or his father will forbid him to love me."

Elrohir had just joined the talking pair around the campfire when he overheard their conversation; he hated hearing the despair in his younger brother's voice. So in an attempt to allay his fears, he informed Aragorn that Legolas was aware of his heritage and that the prince never held any of it against him.

"Legolas knows...for how long?"

Elrohir was suddenly unsure of his decision to tell the mortal. "At least as long as he's known you, I think—perhaps longer...I don't know..." The dark-haired elf's voice trailed off.

"Another person who has been lying to me; when will it end?" Estel got up and left his family members and went off into the night. When he had failed to return by the next evening, the Twins headed out to look for him. They tracked him for days, but lost his trail near the River Glanduin (he learned his lessons well); but it didn't take much for them to deduce that he was headed to Mirkwood and Legolas.

Estel knew that his brothers were following him and took great pains to lose them; he was surprised that they didn't pick his trail again by forgoing sleep (which elves needed less of) thereby making up for the day's head-start. Whatever the reason, he was grateful for he knew that they had figured out his destination.

**End Flashback/**

Now, here he was, procrastinating in the bathing chamber when the reason for his being here awaited him outside the door. _I have to know your part in this, Legolas_. Donning the robe left for him, he opened the door and entered the room where the Prince was waiting for him.

The blond lifted his head at the sound of the door opening. "There is food; you must be hungry...there are clean clothes as well." This was said all in a rush betraying his nervousness. "Estel, please say something to me. Whatever is troubling you, we can work it through. Please, Meleth-Nin."

Estel looked like a lost boy all of a sudden. He spoke in a voice that was very defeated, "Was there ever anyone in my life—who professed to love me—who didn't lie to me?"

TBC

A/N: According to my research, Gilraen remained with Aragorn in Rivendell until 2954 when she left to return to her home in some part of Eriador. I decided to change this so that Aragorn could have something extra to feel betrayed about. Also, I decided to have Aragorn almost come to terms with his identity and then have learn that Legolas had been aware, too--this was a good way for me to create a bit of conflict between our blissfully happy love-birds (a kind of yo-yo effect). Don't worry things will get better in the next chapter.


	3. Chapter 3 Acceptance

**Revelations **by Númenora

**Disclaimer:** Characters that you recognize are the domain of J. R. R. Tolkien and his estate and possibly others who are authorized to use them for profit (which does not include me). I am making no money from this and no infringement is intended. Any other characters that may appear are of my design and clearly pale in comparison; although these characters may have the names of other Tolkien characters from the Appendences or from other Tolkien works.

**Rating PG-13**

Warning: this is Slash m/m. Again, this is a slash story; if you don't like or approve of these type stories, please do not read it. This is a simple work of fiction and is not meant to make you think, nor is it trying to be a great piece of literature. It is simply something I wanted to write and share; if you don't like it, you are welcomed to give constructive criticism, but I would appreciate it if people refrain from flaming (they serve no purpose except to be mean and juvenile).

**A/N:** For a while, I will be using both 'Estel' and 'Aragorn' depending on the mood of the scene; this will be necessary since he hasn't really decided how he feels and Legolas still thinks of his love as Estel. He too will have to wait until Estel/Aragorn decides one way or the other. Most Elvish endearments are translated and are taken from other LOTR fanfiction and found on various websites.

This chapter is unbetaed, all mistakes are mine.

Thoughts in _italics_

Chapter Three

"Acceptance"

'_Was there ever anyone in my life—who professed to love me—who didn't lie to me?'_

The young man stood uncertainly. He felt like someone drowning in turbulent water, deep and cold, waiting to be pulled ashore and the person holding his lifeline was the blond beauty staring at him with as much trepidation as Estel felt.

"You shouldn't think of this as having been laid to, Estel. Your family was only protecting you from a real and true danger."

"They should have told me—you should have told me! Someone should have..." Estel was tired all of a sudden. The feelings of anger and betrayal that had been sustaining him for so long suddenly dissipated. "Legolas," he said tearfully.

With tears of compassion (and relief), the slender Prince ran to the lost soul and slipped his arms around him, burying his nosed in the freshly washed hair lying between the man's neck and shoulder. "I do believe you've grown some more, my Love. There seems to be more _you_ than I remember."

"You are exactly the same...I have missed you." Mortal hands were moving up and down the wood-elf's back over his elegant purple robe.

"I have missed you, too. When I didn't hear from you...I didn't know what to think. I had just decided I would go to see you in Rivendell when you arrived here. I'm happy you are well—physically, at least. Are you hungry? I can get the food just over there."

"No, don't let go of me just yet." They stood embracing each other until Estel began to sway.

"You really should rest; when did you last sleep?" Legolas inquired, pushing the exhausted male closer to the bed.

"I don't remember; I walked and ran for days on end it seems."

"And where was your mare?" The Prince handed his love the borrowed leggings for him to don.

"Still in Tharbad, I imagine. It's strange—I never thought to bring her. Or, perhaps, I just wanted to leave everything I thought I knew behind me. I wasn't exactly thinking rationally as you've seen."

Laying the leggings on the bed, the freshly washed male untied and began to remove his robe; that is until he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. Glancing at the Prince, he laughed a genuine laugh for the first time since his birthday four months ago.

_You are precious, my love_, he thought. Legolas was staring wide-eyed with his mouth open. He had never seen the young man unclothed before. The closest that he'd ever come was when Estel was thirteen and he bared his boyish physique while changing his shirt in front of the blond elf.

Estel reached over and closed those lovely lips by placing two fingers beneath the delicately pointed chin.

_I shall die with a blush on my face!_ With a look of chagrined, Legolas turned around, allowing the man some privacy to dress. _Ai, how he's grown!_

"They are on now, my Prince," The still shirtless Estel chuckled.

"You are so beautiful...so very beautiful" Legolas said in awe in that husky way the man loved.

"I believe you have that backwards; you are the beautiful one. I am the ruggedly handsome one," he said in jest to the staring elf. He was planning to continue along this line of teasing when his exhaustion overwhelmed him and he began to sway once more.

Legolas moved forwards and caught him pushing him down to sit on the coverlet. "You _must_ rest, now."

The future King swung his legs up on the bed as he laid his head on the pillows fluffed lovingly by his intended. "Can we finish discussing...you know...everything?"

"When you awaken, I promise we will talk about whatever concerns you. Just...just give me a chance to explain my part?" The Prince was still uncertain.

"I am no longer angry with you. I'm just adrift and nothing feels familiar—besides you." A huge yawn followed this declaration and his eyes drifted close.

"That's it; close your eyes and sleep, Meleth (love)."

"Will you stay—at least for a while?"

"I will guard your sleep, fear not." The blond wood-elf draped a soft blanket over the now sleeping figure and after placing a gentle kiss upon his forehead, he pulled a chair close and began to guard the sleep of the person he loved more than his own immortal life.

King Thranduil's study much later...

The King of Mirkwood was fuming; his outward appearance gave no indication of the turmoil inside, however (a skill that he has perfected over the many centuries as a ruler). He stared fixedly out of his study window at nothing in particular as he tried to discover how he let this situation with Legolas and Estel occur and not realized that it was going on.

Ai, Elbereth—how could this be? How was it possible for a mortal man who has been dead for nearly three thousand years to still be able to cause strife for his (Thranduil's) family? "You betrayed my dear adar Oropher and I blame you for his death, Isildur; and now you threaten to cause me my youngest offspring? I will not allow it—your..._progeny_...will never take my Legolas. I swear as long as I draw breath, I will not allow this to continue!" The blond monarch raved, waving his fist, allowing emotion to finally show on his face.

"They say that talking to oneself is the first sign of failing mental health," said an amused, familiar voice.

Thranduil dropped his clenched fist as he turned towards the speaker standing in the open door to the study. Any other time, he would be thrilled to see his old gray-clad friend. But, his ill mood prevented him from feeling any delight he normally felt when Gandalf made one of his unannounced visits.

"I have no time for you or your inane since of humor, Istari." Still fuming green eyes flashed as they stared into twinkling sapphire ones partially obscured by bushy brows and the Maia's signature pointy gray hat—eyes not all impressed by the King's show of pique.

"I would ask what has gotten you so riled, but from your diatribe, I can deduce that you are unhappy about the love between Legolas and young Estel Elrondion." Coming further inside, Gandalf the Grey continued, "You can not stop the cause of true love; it will have what it wants—they will have what they want. The old should either help or step aside."

"Why are you here, besides to depart unwanted or unasked-for wisdom?"

"I am here to make sure that Mirkwood's normally wise and fair King does nothing to ruin his reputation or threaten the future of Middle-earth by imprisoning or—Valar forbid—slaying the 'Hope' of the free peoples of the known world!"

"Why must you and my friend Elrond go on so about Isildur's accursed descendent? After the Númenórean took the One Ring, I should have followed my first instinct to hunt him down and destroy not only him, but his entire family. If I had, none of _this_ would be happening now!" Thranduil pulled out the chair to his impeccably organized desk and sat down. Gandalf was always amazed at the contradictions that made up his handsome friend. He chuckled as he realized he often had the same thought about Elrond—both rulers were worth his study. Thranduil could be kind and fair in many instances; especially where his people were concerned. But he also had the reputation (often well-earned) of being volatile and rash and overly passionate (like now) and one would think that with these aspects of his personality, his study would be in disarray. But this was not the case as he was almost puritanical when it came to cleanliness. _Perhaps,_ the Istari thought, _it was because he was both Sindarin and a Wood-elf who were different from other elves like the Noldor._

Elrond, who _was_ Noldor, was Thranduil's near opposite; the Lord of Imladris, like Thranduil, was kind and fair. But unlike him, he had a serenity about him and one would be most hard-pressed to recall a time when he lost his temper or acted rashly. The Elf was the picture of dignity and grace, but _his_ study, as well as his other personal spaces, reflected none of these attributes. The study, library and his suite of rooms were studies in clutter (organized clutter according to the Lord of Imladris)—that gave others hints at the passion that lurked beneath the surface of the Noldo's reserved exterior. Yes, both rulers were worth his study—but at another time. His efforts were needed elsewhere—namely with Estel.

Turning his attention back to the silent King, he watched as the elf slowly rotated his mug of (now cold) tea. Unknown to Gandalf, the Monarch's only daughter Indis had brought in herb tea in an effort to soothe her father (she knew he'd still be beside himself) and some fruit and bread to replace the dinner he never ate. Neither was consumed.

Responding to Thranduil's declaration, the Istari said, "Yes, my old friend, you could have slain the entire Royal Family of Gondor; and you would have been justified in killing Isildur for his actions, but you do not murder innocents. None of his children nor his wife was responsible for his actions...and neither is young Estel even though he has to bear the burden of righting that most grievous wrong. He needs our support—he needs Legolas' support. They truly love each other and I believe that they are destined to be together."

Sounding very tired, the Sindar asked, "Your beliefs are your own, but you never did properly answer my question; why are you here? How did you know that _he_ was here—did you send him?"

"No, Mellon. I was in Rivendell to ascertain how the young man took to the news of his true heritage. It had not gone so well and Estel...Aragorn...practically withdrew from his family and friends. He then asked his brothers to take him to see his mother. Elrond said that the boy would be staying there with her for a while; in fact, he feared that his son would never return to his home and his ada. I decided to go and speak to Aragorn and do what I could to put him at ease and to help him see that no one deceived him out of malice and that his safety was paramount. On the way over the Misty Mountains, I met Elladan and Elrohir who were trailing their young foster brother whom they believed was headed here to see Legolas. Estel had just become aware that the Prince had also known the truth. I wanted to insure that the two of them had the chance to talk; and I knew that if anyone could help our young man, the lovely Legolas could."

"What? Are you saying that that _mortal_ came here to blame Greenleaf for his problems?"

"I'm saying no such thing!" Gandalf said a bit heatedly. Then more calmly and with sympathy for the worried parent, "I'm saying that he is understandably confused and hurt and he feels all alone. He may have felt that Legolas should have told him what everyone else in Middle-earth seemed to know, but I believe that his real reason for coming here was so that his beloved could make everything better. You should have seen the two of them together two years ago. Anyone looking at them could see that they were perfect for one another and their love was deep—is deep—and genuine."

"I think that I'm beginning to empathize somewhat with our Gondorian heir; it seems that I, too, was kept in the dark about something that was to affect _my_ future. No one felt it necessary to tell me that my Greenleaf and Elrond's ward were this close, is that it? _You_ never felt the need to inform your 'old friend?'"

"The news was not mine to tell. Perhaps, Legolas was afraid to tell you or he just wanted to wait—who knows? Why don't you sit down and discuss it with your child. I just ask you to give the two of them time to help Aragorn; it will be in all our best interest in the long run." Looking at the fruit and bread sitting undisturbed on a crystal plate, the Maia reached over the desk and grabbed an apple, "Since your manners have obviously retired for the evening, I'll just help my self; I've missed my supper this evening."

"I wouldn't mention ill manners! After all, I'm not the one who turned up unannounced in Mirkwood—that would be you and _that_...and Estel." The King was tired of raving all of a sudden and part of his good humor returned as he watched the wisest being he knew eat with the enthusiasm of a Hobbit—apple juice soaking in his beard. "Enjoying your 'supper?' Why don't you tell me what you've been up to besides chasing after orphans?"

Chuckling in between bites while reaching for more fruit and some bread, Gandalf the Grey began to regale the golden King seated across from him and for a while, he made him forget his troubles—troubles in the personages of the two very attractive males slumbering in the stylish suite generally reserved for Thranduil's 'most welcomed' of guests.

August 21, TA 2951 (just after 1 in the morning)

Estel's Guest Suite...

Sitting with his bare feet drawn beneath him, Legolas slept soundlessly in Elven dreams in the grand wing-back chair positioned close to the large bed where the object of the Prince's affections lay sleeping not so soundlessly. An anguished whimper penetrated Legolas' revelry and his cerulean blue eyes slowly refocused. Moving closer to Estel, he cooed calmingly as he rained light kisses over the man's face and brushed his thumbs delicately across thickly lashed eyelids. The musical whisperings seem to penetrate Estel's troubled dreams, and he calmed down and slept peacefully again.

The Prince sat quietly next to the sleeping figure for some time until he noticed his own thirst. Standing carefully to keep from waking the 20-year-old, Legolas reached up to the wall sconce and turned up the flame slightly to illuminate the room just enough to light his way to the table where the food was left earlier in the evening. Casting the cumbersome robe he was wearing aside, he picked up one of the goblets and poured some water into it. Plucking a few strawberries from the plate nearby, he moved back to his original seat and began watching over the slumbering figure once more. _You really are a feast for my eyes a'maelamin _(my beloved). With the subtle, but adequate, light casting a glow over the young man, Legolas allowed himself the luxury of reacquainting himself with the reality of Estel Elrondion. It was amazing to the young Prince how much he had changed in the two years since they were last together. Any boyishness that had been present then, was no longer evident in the mortal. Considered slender by human standards, he was still broader than most elves (which included Legolas), his body showing smooth, tone muscles on his strong shoulders and arms as well as his slightly hairy chest and flat stomach.

The Elven archer loved watching the play of light and shadow move tantalizingly over the sleeping form. Placing the goblet and forgotten strawberries on the bedside table, the fascinated wood-elf scooted closer to the edge of his seat so that he could get a better look. Unable to resist, he ran his hands along the arm closest to him, holding the hand as he examined each lightly calloused finger. Turning the hand over, he placed a gentle kiss on the palm before turning his attention to the torso once again.

'Greenleaf' slowly removed the blanket that had worked its way down and partly off the man when he thrashed in his sleep. With a totally unobstructed view, the enthralled blond placed his pale, slender hand on one tanned pectoral muscle of the chest laid out before him. He liked the feel of unfamiliar chest hair against his palm; with a pleased grin on his face, he became emboldened, letting his thumb and forefinger examine the brownish nub pebbling under the warmth of his questing fingers' caresses. A moan escaped in response to Legolas' explorations and stilling his hands, his eyes flew guiltily to Estel's face. He breathed a sigh of relief when the young man continued to slumber.

_Allow him to sleep undisturbed for he's been through so much. He doesn't need you poking and prodding him!_ The blond elf scolded himself. _But it has been so long since we've been together and I've never before seen him thusly; just a little more and I'll leave him be._ Legolas felt an uncharacteristic naughtiness that was reminiscent of his brother Elurín when he was planning some mischief. He decided that Estel's pectorals were probably too sensitive for his explorations; testing the theory, he touched his own in the same manner he had touched his beloved and was shocked at the sensations. _No wonder you reacted so, Coramin (my heart), this is most pleasurable! I shall have to remember this for some future time,_ he thought, naughtiness still in full bloom.

Glancing at the handsome face once more to make sure the Estel still slept, he next placed his hands on the finely toned abdomen, allowing his fingers to trace each distinct muscle and groove between them and beneath the surprisingly soft hair. _Exquisite, beloved! Sooo fine and strong are you_. Following the line running the center of the flat plane of flesh, the entranced elf allowed one digit to dip into the hirsute navel. Giggling (silently) like an elfling with a new toy, the prince contemplated placing his tongue where his forefinger was exploring the depression. _Perhaps not!_ He decided to continue following the line leading into and out of the navel, noting as he did that the dark hair was getting a bit thicker the further down it went, hinting at even more dense follicles hiding beyond waistband of the leggings. Legolas desperately wanted to see what he only got a glimpse of earlier—the partially untied robe hiding that part from the startled blond's view.

_What a wicked elf you are, Legolas Thranduilion! I can not believe that you are seriously considering invading Estel's privacy by peeking inside his clothes. Isn't it enough that you have been unashamedly molesting him? He's just so lovely... _

_Pretty—no, beautiful—feet._ The young royal became distracted from his earlier thoughts of undressing his obsession and moved further down the bed towards the future ranger's well-formed lower legs. He discovered that the hair just above the ankles was coarser than the softer hair on the chest and stomach, but was sparser, with none on the ankle itself or the feet. _Those beautiful feet! The skin looks as soft there as his face._ The Prince caressed the skin to see if this was the case and was pleased to note that it was nearly so. He let his hands move over each foot one after the other starting at the areas just under the ankles, then down to examine each toe just as he had the fingers on the hand closest to him. The feet were truly fascinating Legolas; especially as he began moving his digits along the veins and fine bones running the surface before moving to the soles where he noted the skin texture to be thicker and less smooth. The pads and balls were like the tips of the fingers and palm of the man's hand—lightly calloused, but not at all unappealing. They are still wonderful, he thought. And to punctuate this, the lovely wood-elf graced each foot with the same treatment as the palm by placing gentle kisses on the tops and on each shapely toe.

"Enjoying yourself, my Love? I know I am," Came a pleased, teasing voice.

Caught with his lips brushing against a small digit, Legolas sat up slowly, marshalling his composure before turning to face the speaker awaiting an answer. "I was...I...you are awake, A'maelamin (beloved). Are you better?"

"I am better, but do not try and change the subject. What were you doing, just now, Coramin? I'm am not complaining, mind you; it is not everyday a simple mortal such as me awakens to find the most beautiful elf who ever walked Middle-earth placing kisses upon his feet." The 'simple mortal' was thoroughly enjoying the situation as evident of the mirth displayed on his sleep-tousled visage.

"You are no simple _anything!"_ He was stalling, though he meant the statement. "Would you believe that I was trying to make certain that you suffered no injuries during your relentless trek from Eriador, across the Misty Mountains to Mirkwood?"

"No, my Perfect Prince; try again."

"You wound me, Estel." That pout upon Legolas' face was nearly Estel's undoing.

The blond was so ravishing, but the man resisted and waited for him to continue—_this should be good,_ he thought.

"But, to answer your question...they called to me."

"Excuse me?" An eyebrow lifted questioningly, Estel sat up straighter against the hand-carved headboard. "My _feet_ called to you? I had no idea they were so talented—they obviously have good in taste calling to _you_."

"They _are_ talented as well as beautiful and they do taste good." Legolas said with a mock serious face that was belied by delicate pink staining on his dimpled cheeks as he made the clever witticism.

This made Estel laugh outright. "What did they say specifically?"

In an imitation of a suffering-filled voice, the Prince 'translated.' "'We are so tired and weary! Please, we need your caring touch.' I was so filled with compassion that I had to kiss them to make them well again."

"Truly, now? I must let Lord Elrond and the other healers know this"

"Truly! My mother and my ada used this method whenever I had some injury." Unable to continue straight-faced, Legolas dissolved into laughter and was joined by his human companion. To quiet himself and Estel, he placed one hand over each of their mouths when their mirth escalated, threatening to wake the entire floor. "Shhh, or we will have unwanted company and you will never get back to sleep!" Then, more soberly, "I am sorry that I disturbed your sleep; I couldn't seem to help myself."

"Well, with talking feet and all! Tell me, Legolas—did my navel and chest speak to you as well?" Estel caught the Prince off guard with this knowing question.

"You were awake! But, for how long?" The blond was incredulous. Why didn't you let me know? Ai!"

"And miss such adoration? I think not. Please, A'maelamin, do not be embarrassed; I enjoyed every moment of it. Had I been in your place, I would have been so moved and with less restraint than you showed," the mortal admitted graciously and truthfully.

"Thank you for saying this. Are you hungry now?"

"I could eat a little something; Legolas, you do not have to wait upon me." This as the elf stopped Estel from getting up and choosing himself to get the plate of fruit and cheese.

"Thank you, Love of Mine."

Handing a goblet filled with water, the Prince smiled at the ravenous adan, and then reached to the nightstand to retrieve his abandoned strawberries. "More? Ah, I didn't mean mine!" He said after one of the red berries was plucked from his hand. He returned the favor by plucking a morsel of cheese that was making its way to the culprit's lips.

They continued like this, alternating between feeding each other and swiping each other's food until the plate was empty. Wiping some small bits of cheese from the young man's beard, Legolas broached the subject they temporarily abandoned earlier. "Would you like to talk, now? You can ask me anything," he said shyly and a bit apprehensively.

"Yes, I'd like that. You said you would tell me your part in all this; I am no longer upset with you, but I am curious."

Nodding, the blond began, "First, I wish to state that it was never my place to tell you about your true history; that duty was your father's alone. Because of the real harm that could befall you, he told very few people about you and he never meant for me to be one of those few. I found out by accident. I was in Adar's study going through some scrolls and parchments that belonged to my naneth—it is something that I do when I miss her. I was reading a poem that was her favorite when my King and Gandalf came in. They were arguing—which was nothing new, for they regularly rehashed the same arguments that they been revisiting for centuries. I didn't feel the need to make my presence known since they generally ignored me at such times. It was then that I learned that Lord Elrond had taken a mortal child and his mother into his care and protection.

"Gandalf was asking Thranduil to offer sanctuary in Mirkwood to this young boy should the Forces of Evil discover his whereabouts in Imladris. Our palace is a fortress unrivaled anywhere and the Istari wanted that option for you and your mother. My father wanted no part of it; he still feels the loss of his adar keenly and blames Isildur for allowing the Evil that killed him, as well as friends dear to his heart, to continue. He was never interested in keeping Isildur's line safe 'til the day the throne of Gondor is restored. He...he thought that your ada Elrond was being too sentimental in taking on this task and my father felt that he--Lord Elrond—was motivated by his desire to keep his brother Elros alive. My ada, said that he understood this desire, but he didn't share it.

"I knew how my father felt, but I didn't agree with his reasoning; so, I did something that I had never before dared—I interrupted and asked my father to reconsider. I reminded him that this child—you—and his mother were innocent and that neither was responsible for a sin that was committed three thousand years ago. I begged their forgiveness for interfering, but I felt deeply about it. After a time, he promised me that he would consider it further; hopefully the time wouldn't come. Afterwards, he and Gandalf swore me to secrecy. I told them that I understood and that I would never divulge the information that was inadvertently imparted to me and I never have." The Prince waited for his audience to digest all that he heard.

"Thank you for telling me and you are right; this information was for Adar and my mother Gilraen to tell me about."

"You do understand why he waited to tell you, don't you?"

"Partly...I'm not sure...I still don't know how I feel..." Estel's voice trailed off in uncertainty.

"Consider this; think of the life that you have lived so far—before learning the truth. Weren't you well-loved by your family and happy? They protected and nurtured you so well, that when I met you for the first time, I was struck by how well-mannered and bright _and_ confident you seemed to me. My opinion of you never changed in the intervening years during the times we spent in each other's company." Pausing briefly, he continued.

"Now, consider this; imagine what your life would have been like if you had to worry about a great Evil that was hunting for you—the same Evil that wrought the orc hordes that killed your father Arathorn and my...mother. No, my Love—it is okay." After holding him briefly, but firmly, Estel let Legolas continue. "You learned of the history of Sauron and the death and destruction he caused during your studies, did you not? Númenor was corrupted by him and was eventually destroyed for following him; all save for Elendil and other loyal Númenóreans. But Sauron's evil allowed him to endure and even now, he is trying to obliterate the free peoples of Middle-earth—people that you are believed fated to unite.

"Can you imagine such a weight being placed upon the shoulders of a five or eight or ten-year-old? You would not have been that carefree young man who planned to woo me by combing the ancient trees looking for perfect mistletoe. You would have been too fearful of danger that may have been lurking there; and then you and I would not be in love as we are now. I do not think any age before your current one would have been ideal."

"You are very wise, Legolas Thranduilion. Here I am a man of twenty Springs and I am nearly undone from the weight of it. I have been feeling most sorry for myself. My poor father; how unfair I've been. I must make things right—he seemed quite sad when I left for Eriador. And you, my sweet Prince; I have wronged you as well. Forgive me, please?" Cupping a creamy, smooth cheek, the young son of Númenor kissed his Prince deeply. It was their first real one in over two years. "Thank you for being patient with me and for loving me in spite of all my faults."

"Your faults are few and the ones you possess are precious to me for they are a part of the one that I adore." They resumed their kissing, savoring the taste of the other and their combined flavors.

Estel truly had missed Legolas and the wood-elf missed him desperately. They leisurely kissed for several unhurried minutes. Smiles followed nibbles and licks in favorite places like dimples and the indentions above the upper lips and just beneath the nose. The ears were feasted upon and the blond immortal was especially overcome by the sensual play, writhing in response. He turned his head to the side to give better access the delicately shaped shell-like ear with its sensitive point. "Ai...mmm...mela...aahh!"

"It seems that I'm not the only one with tasty parts, A'mael (beloved). I can not get enough of you! Sweet...oh so sweet." He quickly pulled Legolas fully onto the bed and on his back beneath his own body to fasten his mouth over the other ear, twining and running fingers through silky silver-blond tresses and cupping one hand firmly to the back of the Prince's head as if to keep him from fleeing his grasp; but the elf wasn't going anywhere for he was right where he longed to be.

The mortal gave the now damp area one last kiss and latched onto the equally sensitive bit of pale flesh below the lobe and lower before being hindered by the buttoned shirt the blond had on.

Blue eyes regarded Estel questioningly when he abandoned his sensual assault on the stunning creature trapped under solid frame of the handsome Imladrian. "Why do cease, Estel? Come, I need your touches and your kisses."

"I was thinking back to earlier when my slumber was pleasantly interrupted; you weren't so hindered by my clothing, elegant though this garment may be," Amusement was evident even though the man had trouble catching his breath. But he suddenly became serious as he noted the flushed and equally breathless Elda, "I desperately need to see you—as much of you that's possible," his voice barely above a whisper.

Tacit agreement came with a nod as the willowy fingers preceded the release of filigreed mithril buttons on the lavender silk with less than Elven gracefulness. When the act was threatening to take too long, the eager young man lent his assistance. Legolas was nearly giddy with pleasure at the awed look on the face of his beloved as he drank in the sight of the elf's now bared upper body. Legolas was not vain by nature, but it pleased him to know that Estel found him, not only beautiful, but desirable as well. "You are pleased, my Love?"

"There is no emotion to describe how pleased I am." The Prince leaned up to totally remove the obsolete garment allowing tanned hands to become acquainted with his male Elven loveliness. There was no spare flesh to be found on the perfectly toned archer's body. The man especially fascinated by the dusky rose nipples adorning the graceful pectorals.

"I...I would have you take me, Estel, but...but..."

"But what, my Only One? You can say anything to me," this as he pulled the suddenly shy elf closer.

"I am forbidden to...until I bind my self for life. I am already bound by heart to you, but my ada has degreed that his children must be officially wed before... I want you, but I can not go against his wishes in this—please forgive me..." The wood-elf was prevented from speaking further by a tanned forefinger pressed against his rose petal lips.

"I once told you that I would forgive any thing, but..." At the stricken look on his elf's face, he hurried to continue, "But there is nothing to forgive here. I am already bound by heart to you as well; I would never ask you to break a pledge—to you father or anyone else. I want only to love you and take care of you. We do not have to do anything at all."

"I want you to kiss me some more and touch me...and kiss me...I mean and hold me close! Can we not continue?"

"I would love to continue kissing you and touching you and kissing you...I mean holding you close," he teased. "You know, according to my brothers who took it upon themselves to explain the ways of love to me, there are many ways to give and receive pleasure without fully consummating our flesh as officially bonded mates."

"Truly?" The Price's innocence was on full display.

"Truly, A'maelamin; I am surprised that your brothers haven't told you of these things."

"They would not presume to do so; you may not be aware of this, but Adar is very protective of me. His anger at you and his wish to throw you in the dungeons was not for your trespassing into Mirkwood, but because I told him of our pledge to each other. I am still too young in his eyes to consider taking a mate."

"I see—then perhaps we should desist and go promptly to sleep," Said Estel straight-faced.

"Nay!" The Prince didn't have leaves and twigs this time to toss at his companion, but a well-place whack at the back of the dark head served his purposes. "You wicked boy, do not tease me so. I should just leave you to your rest and go to my chambers to find mine," He laughed.

"Nay!" Estel imitated while rubbing his abused scalp. "So, you find me wicked, do you? Let's see how 'wicked' this 'boy' can be." He grabbed Legolas with a growl and began fulfilling the beautiful elf's wishes for kisses and touches. After vying for a place on top for several minutes, the two ravaged males gazed into each other's eyes.

From his superior position on top, the youngest Prince of Mirkwood asked passionately, "Why don't you show me those ways of giving and receiving pleasure."

"I would be delighted."

TBC

Please review.

**A/N:** Don't kill me for ending the chapter like this; I promise our young lovers will find their 'pleasure' in the Chapter 4. I am going to do some research by examining some other T-rated fics to see how far I can go as this will be archived at which has restrictions on sexual content as well as other sites with fewer ones. I will follow where the story leads which means that I will probably have to do two versions (one for and one for everywhere else). I want to devote most of the entire chapter to the love scene and the rest will be about Estel/Aragorn being confronted by Thranduil and he will also make some preliminary decisions about his future as it pertains to Middle-earth. I don't want to make this one too long, so I will endeavor to keep it five chapters or less. I have another A/L fic that I have been planning and I also have been toying with the idea of doing a Viggo/Orlando one—but that may come way later as I'm not ambitious enough to tackle both at once.

**Shameless plug Alert:** I have created a personal webpage where I have Hide and Seek and To Kiss A Prince archived, illustrated by some A/L pics (Revelations will follow soon). I have some of my favorite links and I started an album/gallery of some of my favorite Viggo/Orlando pics for now as I plan to add other fav male LOTR stars and eventually, another album with my fav non-LOTR male stars. If you have time, click my homepage link to visit or cust and past **http/home. tell me what you think by email and I also welcome some suggestions on what to add. Thanks for reading.**


	4. Chapter 4 Beginnings

Revelations by Númenora

Disclaimers and Warnings: See chapter one; remember this is slash M/M.

This chapter is un-betaed, all mistakes are mine.

Thoughts and stressed words are in _italics _

Rating: R-M this chapter (Re-edited for content; see footnote)

Chapter Four

"Beginnings"

Colors of green and red and blue along with whites as bright as lightening blasts in streaks more magnificent than shooting stars burst forth spectacularly before eyes tightly closed. Legolas was reminded of a time long ago when the Darkness had not encroached so far into Mirkwood or perhaps it only seemed so to a small elfling who fell asleep each night in his mother's loving arms. A time when all eyes, including—or perhaps, especially—the delighted blue ones of the smallest Prince of the former Greenwood the Great, were trained on the night sky over the decorated courtyard where the citizens were celebrating the founding of the Elven Realm as wonderful fireworks put on a memorable display for hours on end. 'This one is for you, little Leaf; it will follow you into revelry and keep you company all night long!' The gray-clad figure whispered into a tiny pointed ear of the elfling reclined against his beautiful naneth as they sat securely wrapped in the King's protective embrace beneath the giant Mellyrn. The old Maia had been correct—the giant winged bird flew high, twirling and twirling until finally it exploded into millions of tiny fluttering butterflies that descended onto the smiling trio—and the happy company of wood-elves—lulling the littlest one to sleep. The colors were there before his slumbering eyes then just as they were there now—floating in bursts of green and red and blue along with whites as bright as lightening blasts in streaks more magnificent than shooting stars just beneath his firmly closed eyelids.

Willowy, but strong fingers threatened to rip to pieces the eider down quilted coverlet as the blond struggled to keep from screaming his pleasure as the cause of the 'fireworks' and his enjoyment relentlessly suckled the swollen nubs attached to the archer's trembling chest. The dark-haired dúnadan was in no hurry it seemed to stop his ministrations on the exposed flesh. Estel was like a nursing infant, hungry and determined and Legolas was the nourishment he needed to live.

"You are delicious, Mela; you taste like honey and cream," The man said as he migrated from one rosy peak to the other. I wonder what the rest of you tastes like?"

"You undo me, Heart of Mine. I am powerless in your arms and happy to be so."

"Heart of Mine, Soul of Mine—you are all things to me, Legolas and I wish to know every inch of flesh beneath my hands." Those hands gently grazed fingernails over supple skin, leaving no permanent marks save on the nerve-endings below the surface as they sent tendrils of desire to the Prince's extremities before settling into his groin pressed against Estel's firm chest. Feeling the hardness there, the dúnadan repeated his actions, adding more stimuli by employing nips and licks along with the fingertips. Showing none of the elf's earlier trepidation towards his, the man's talented tongue came to rest inside the blond's tiny navel. The questing organ pushed doggedly into the tight aperture, demanding entrance. Had anyone been watching, they'd have found the entire display very erotic; but the only witness had closed his eyes once more, perfect white teeth fastened to pale knuckles threatening to draw blood.

Steadily escalating moans began to assail the mortal's ears; he considered reaching a hand up to quiet his elf until he realized the noise was coming from his own throat. He backed off for a moment to give his heart a moment to calm, and then he resumed his earlier task before moving down over the gentle swell of unblemished lower belly where his bearded chin encountered satin strings that were holding the front of deep purple leggings together. "I'm forever being thwarted by cloth standing between me and my goal. Well, no matter—this piece shall go the way of the previous," the future king whispered to the offending fabric and no one in particular. Agile fingers made short work of the lacings thereby revealing what was hiding from view—fine, silver blond curls nestled atop the beginning of a lovely column of elven tumescence. Estel's eyes glazed at the sight before him; though he appeared knowledgeable, he was as inexperienced as his Perfect Prince. He had only made love in his fantasies—fantasies of Legolas fuelled by the knowledge imparted to him by his elven foster brothers. He could only imagine what the wood-elf would look like unclothed and so far his imaginings have pale in comparison with the reality.

Legolas' eyes flew open as his heated skin first met cool air rushing beneath his open pants and then the warm breath of the man struggling to remove the last of his outfit, nose buried near the root of his desire. Before he realized, instead of resisting, the youngest Prince of Mirkwood found himself lifting his hips to allow the leggings to be stripped off, which left his body completely bare before Estel's naked gaze. That gaze finally rose to lock with Legolas' over the Prince's groin—swollen member arched gracefully, pointing in the way to those lovely eyes. "Truly exquisite, Beloved; the Valar smiled upon you and upon me by allowing me to have your love." This declaration was punctuated by a chaste kiss on that most charming, newly exposed organ.

Legolas watched in fascination and trepidation as those passion-filled blue-green orbs lowered, breaking contact before they disappeared from view behind wavy nut-brown hair and he quickly dissolved into a quivering mound of elf-flesh when one, then the other hairless globe resting defenselessly in the juncture of his hips was engulfed by the hot cavern that was Estel's mouth. When both were swallowed at once, the elf's back arched up off the bed, nearly dislodging the dúnadan, but the man was not so easily foiled and he used his greater weight to hold the blond in place. The Prince had to put both hands over his mouth the keep from screaming at the top of his lungs' capacity at the assault. Then the 'assault' escalated when Legolas' legs were pushed aside and over the man's shoulders, giving him better access and control over the body in his grasp.

Warm moisture escaping the suckling mouth dripped down, cooling as it made its way along the Prince's perineum then over the furrowed entrance to his most secret place, to slide between the elegant mounds of the wood-elf's shapely backside. The man was savoring the sweet taste of Legolas' sweat as the blond's passion mounted and he wanted more; he reluctantly released his meal to venture elsewhere and Estel unconsciously followed the path of his saliva. When his questing tongue grazed over the perineum that lay half between the well-suckled sacs and the wrinkled aperture leading to archer's inner core, the blond was nearly overwhelmed by the pressure against the bundle of nerves located under that sensitive spot.

As the Prince's body continued to writhe and lurch in response to the man's love-making, Estel's own aroused flesh pressed achingly against the increasingly uncomfortable leggings; loathe to release the strong thrashing legs flung over his shoulders, the future ranger tried to relieve some of that pressure by rubbing his crotch against the bed. This both helped and hindered his cause as the friction escalated his need for more intimate contact of flesh against flesh. He was seriously contemplating how this was to be accomplished and at the same time was seeking more oral stimulation which he found when his mouth met that part of Legolas that no one had seen for nearly eight hundred years when the infant that he was needed help in keeping himself clean.

Placing a delicate and demure kiss upon the spot, Estel decided he needed more of his Perfect One.¹ "Enough," the mortal groaned and lurched forward menacingly. He grabbed the elf around the waist; he then straddled the prone figure, leaned up to capture the beautiful quivering lips in a near-bruising kiss, before swooping back down and swallowing the aroused elfhood leaking profusely onto the flat plane of the archer's stomach. Estel suppressed the urge to gag and adjusted the angle of warm column inside and very easily guided it down his throat as his tongue molded itself to the vein running along the back, swiping it up and down from base to the glans atop the slender pole. Hardly the first time a similar thought occurred, Estel was now convinced that Legolas was made to fit him perfectly; his waist was a perfect fit for his hands; his mouth fitted perfectly together with Estel's; that slender form was made to be held by him and now this intimate arousal was a perfect fit for his mouth. The mortal knew that this was a conceit, but he gloried in the seeming truth of the situation; and he knew without a doubt that when the time came to fully claim the Prince as his, he will find that his beloved will be a perfect fit there as well.

The colors had started anew and burst forth even brighter behind the concealed eyes of the beautiful elf. The coverlet was also in danger of tearing again from male elven digits gripping onto it, white-knuckled as the fair head tossed from side to side, flinging silver-blond hair that beautifully caught the light cast off by the wall sconces. The turgid flesh, enclosed in the heated cavern of the man he loved, was brought to the brink of release again and again, driving the Prince nearly insane as mewling and keening sounds translated into pleas for mercy. Giving a few rough swipes around the leaking shaft to gather the essence from the tip, Estel Elrondion relaxed his throat muscles and tightened his cheek muscles at the same time, creating the necessary suction as he fully engulfed the elf. His efforts were rewarded when the lovely being froze, crying out his release as the elf's warm fluids flooded the dúnadan's hungry mouth.

The man swallowed the seeming endless flow as if it was the finest nectar and to Estel, it was, for it came from the one he held most dear. When the flow stopped finally, the man was reluctant to let go of the spent member, but the wood-elf began to pull away as the friction became uncomfortable. Relenting, the dark-haired mortal allowed the Prince to withdraw and his elfhood came to rest against the elf's ivory thighs. As Legolas began breathing normally again, he reached down and pulled the larger male up into his arms and kissed him deeply, tasting his own essence on Estel's tongue.

The Mirkwood Royal molded the tanned semi-clothed body close to his own nude splendor, wrapping his willowy, finely toned legs about the strong thigh muscles of his new lover. "You are my treasure, Beloved; I would never have thought such pleasure was possible!" Legolas tightened his legs more securely around the man in his arms, resuming the kiss. As he molded their bodies closer together, the satisfied elf noticed that Estel was still very aroused. He reluctantly broke the kiss, stating contritely, "How generous you have been towards me and how selfish I am now. You have given me so much and have saved none for yourself." The Prince's hand drifted between them, placing his palm over Estel's need.

"That is not true, Mela; I have derived great joy from loving you and touching you. Your taste is still on my tongue. Pleasing you _is_ my pleasure and though I would have more of you, if I died this very moment, I would do so _most_ happy. I've found paradise within your embrace—you are _my_ Valinor."

"Come then—the White shores are calling, though—" Using those strong willowy thighs, Legolas easily flipped the man onto his back and straddled his waist with a wicked gleam in his lovely eyes—"It may be sometime before you find any rest!"

"I am yours to do with as you please!"

Estel's senses were humming. His innocent Prince had been driving him slowly insane using the man's own techniques to do so. After nibbling mercilessly on his chest's hard nubs for what seemed like hours, the blond turned his attentions to other parts of Estel's upper torso. The dúnadan watched as his sweet elf ran his delicate tongue around his own red, kiss-swollen lips before placing an open-mouth kiss in the center of the mortal's hairy chest, making little sucking noises and hard nips before soothing the area with gentle swipes of that delicate pink tongue.

Legolas was a natural at seduction and he was feeling a shameless rush of power as elicited a plethora of sounds from his human lover—who at that moment was purring. The blond archer licked a trail down the middle of Estel's rib-cage, occasionally tugging on dark chest hair in straight white teeth before traveling further down to dip into the mortal's hirsute navel, no longer shy. The dense follicles tickled his tongue and his nose and he giggled against the hairy orifice which sent an erotic thrill right through the future Dúnedain chieftain, culminating in his already aroused groin.

The wood-elf's nimble little organ pushed deeper inside, moving in and out mimicking another more intimate act which caused Estel to growl deep in his chest, fingers gripping almost painfully in Legolas' silky-soft mane. Hardly perturbed, the Prince reached above his head and ran his fingernails the length of the man's side, leaving barest traces of welts (ones that will brush tantalizingly against Estel's shirt as a gentle reminder for the next few days). When he encountered the dark leggings still covering his lover's lower body, Legolas loosened the knot of its lacing and then he dug his hands into the waist band and tugged before sliding one hand into the heat beneath the loosened garment.

When he wrapped his fingers as far as he could around the eager shaft nestled there, it was the man's turn to arch off the bed, almost dislodging the elf in the process. Loathe to release his prize, Legolas wrenched the pants further down the Númenórean's thighs one-handed, his mouth wandering tantalizingly around the man's heavy sacs lying beneath his swollen flesh. Legolas wanted desperately to do for Estel the things that had driven him mad when the mortal was in charge, but the sheer size of his private parts was somewhat daunting for the wood-elf. But he persevered and began mouthing the heavy sacs hanging beneath the thick staff—first one orb and then the other hairy one, causing the dúnadan to emit mewling sounds of pleasure. With one final swipe of his tongue, the Prince temporarily released Estel's tumescence and roughly jerked the pants all the way off the man's legs and flinging them clear across the room.

Legs free, the Heir of Isildur open them wide, giving Legolas an unobstructed view of his masculine beauty. The man was almost too lovely to touch—almost. Slipping between the perfectly muscled thighs, the beautiful elf took the man in hand again; he wanted to taste the entire thing, but Estel was quite large—larger than Legolas in length and girth and the Prince suspected that he surpassed many males in that aspect (be they elf or mortal). _When the time comes, you shall tear me asunder, Beloved!_ Taking his cue from his lover's earlier acts upon him, Legolas leaned forwards and took Estel into his mouth, engulfing the glans, already damp with the man's salty fluids. The taste was strange to him, but Legolas decided that he very much liked it and tried to encourage more by moving his hands up and down the portion of the shaft that didn't fit inside his warm, sucking mouth.

Estel was totally entranced by the sight of Legolas—he was the picture of both innocence and wantonness as he orally worshipped the root of the man's desire, his agile hands ever active upon the hot flesh. The dúnadan reached down and combed the pale hair from around the elf's stunningly beautiful face—made more so by the passion so evident upon it. With his fingers, he traced the fine cheekbones and jaw lines, coming to rest finally at those lovely rose-tinted lips delicately stretched about his length. The sight was too much for the man and though he would have loved to find his release inside the warmth of his Prince, he needed to feel Legolas in his arms; so he gently pried the elf away and pulled him fully into his embrace—their naked forms melding together like halves of the same whole.

The two lovers couldn't touch each other enough and each 'fought for dominance' as they alternated positions—first Legolas on top of Estel and he on top of the Prince, kissing voraciously the whole time. When the man used his superior weight to remain above, Legolas used his considerable charms to keep him off-balance. In their short time together as lovers, the elf knew what the man liked and he nibbled on the places that made him tremble with desire and he wrapped his long legs around the strong waist, sandwiching their trapped members between their bodies, creating unbearably sweet friction. Before long, the man could take no more and he slid his hand between them and took both arousals, gently stroking up and down their lengths to bring them to completion and before long his large hand was joined by Legolas' smaller one, whose eagerness was the impetus the mortal needed to find his release, spilling his pent-up passion between their two bodies. "I want to taste you, Estel," Came the simple statement.

The prince encircled his beloved's wrist and leaning down, licked the salty fluids from the sword-roughened palm before suckling each finger in turn as he watched his love's face intently as the man fought to catch his breath, damp hair stuck to his forehead. The look in Estel's eyes was so intense with love and lust that Legolas needed no physical stimulation to find his release for the second time, mingling their two essences upon their satisfied flesh.

Thoroughly exhausted and satiated, man and elf kissed deeply and unhurriedly, heads nestled together on silk pillows; before long, sleep called and they plucked the blanket from off the floor and draped it over them. Legolas was the first to succumb, eyes unfocused as he walked in Elven Dreams. It was the first time that Estel had seen his Perfect Prince like this and he wanted to savor the sight, but his own tiredness made it impossible and he slipped into an untroubled slumber—the first that he'd had for several months.

August 21, TA 2951 (just before dawn)

The wall sconce valiantly continued to cast its gentle glow and it illuminated the two beautiful males sleeping peacefully in each other's arms in the pre-dawn hours. Legolas was lying on top of Estel, his head pillowed on the man's broad chest—pink lips slightly parted, sweet breath stirring the dark hair there. His long, pale back was bare, the gentle swell of his shapely bottom was barely covered by the blanket that had slipped down and bunched as the embracing bodies moved during the night. Estel's head was turned to the side, one arm flung across his forehead and the other loosely wrapped around the elf, hand lying possessively on his narrow waist. His bare legs were splayed open, right knee bent and Legolas was nestled between them, the mortal's groin pressed against the wood-elf's flat stomach. The two slumbered on undisturbed for sometime until Estel's beginning ranger's training (the same training that alerted him to Legolas' quiet explorations of his body) alerted him to being watched.

Blue-green eyes peered covertly through thick lashes and came to rest on an elegantly dressed, pretty elleth with Legolas' complexion and light emerald-green eyes, staring wide-eyed at him and his unclothed companion.

Indis had arisen extra early as she was wont to do when she was worried. Her father had been brooding the night before and even after Gandalf had retired, the King staid in his study, forgoing sleep as he worried over the situation with Legolas and the young man from Rivendell. She had gone to her younger brother's room to talk to him, but he didn't answer when she knocked, so she concluded that he wasn't there.

Deciding to wait until this morning, she arose in the pre-dawn to speak to him; again, she failed to find him. One thought occurred to her and she returned to her adar's study thinking that the two of them were together, but that wasn't the case. Her father was alone, having fallen asleep in an over-stuffed chair (the one in which he used to read his children their favorite stories). Carefully covering him with a light throw, she left and headed to the one place she felt she'd find Legolas. It occurred to her that her brother would get up early to check on his friend, but she never in her whole life on Middle-earth thought that she would find him—find them—like this; naked in each other's arms on a completely disheveled bed.

They were _exquisite_ and it was the most beautiful sight that she had ever seen; and the one thought that ran through her mind over and over again was, _Adar will kill Estel and lock Legolas away for a thousand years at least! Ai!_

Then out loud as she and the dúnadan stared at each other, she stated, "If Adar sees the two of you like this, your life is forfeit, Hir-Nin. Mae govannen, Estel; I am Indis—Legolas' sister." One pale hand reached out to him in the greeting men used (she'd looked it up for when they met properly).

But instead of taking the proffered hand, he gently shook Legolas awake; when the elf's blue eyes refocused and smiled at his love, Estel said wryly, "We have company, Beloved."

TBC

(¹ Scene edited for content; deleted part can be found at my homepage, LJ, Mirrormere and Since I'm not sure and it was never clearly indicated by Tolkien, I am putting Legolas' age as around 800 years and setting the age of majority 1000 years (I was unable to find a definite number). Also, I ended this chapter here as it seemed the perfect stopping point. The next chapter will have the confrontation between Thranduil and the lovers and some decisions will be made about the future.

Depending how long this takes as far as length of chapter, I may add the epilogue to chapter five or have it as chapter six, but either way, this is nearly concluded and I am currently working on my next fiction which will be archived at Mirrormere, Aniron (if it comes back online) and as well as my own website. The content will be of a more mature nature which does not follow the guidelines for will be an AU A/L fiction that will be different from my first ones (No warm and fuzzies and lots of angst and conflict between them) and will be rated M or NC-17 overall. It is not the one I had planned to do next, but its premise came to me and would not go away—so I went with it and have completed two chapters and started the third. Thanks for reading and for all the wonderful reviews.


	5. Chapter 5 Resolutions

Revelations by Númenora

Disclaimers and Warnings: See chapter one; remember, this is slash M/M.

This chapter is un-betaed, all mistakes are mine.

Thoughts and stressed words are in _italics _

Rating: PG for this chapter

Chapter Five

"Resolutions"

August 21, TA 2951 (just before dawn)

'_If Adar sees the two of you like this, your life is forfeit, Hir-Nin. Mae govannen, Estel; I am Indis—Legolas' sister.' One pale hand reached out to him in the greeting men used (she'd looked it up for when they met properly)._

_But instead of taking the proffered hand, he gently shook Legolas awake; when the elf's blue eyes refocused and smiled at his love, Estel said wryly, 'We have company, Beloved.'_

The smile left Legolas' face as he turned his head and looked at his sister in alarm. "Indis! Wha...how...what are doing here?" He pulled the blanket over them more securely.

"I can ask the very same of you, Tôr dithen (younger brother). As I was saying to your Estel, Adar will be most displeased."

"I believe that your exact words were 'If Adar sees the two of you like this, your life is forfeit, Hir-Nin,'" Estel always prided himself on his near perfect memory, but he found no delight in the present situation; especially with the Princess staring at him so intently and with a peculiar look upon her face. If he didn't know any better, he'd think that she was taken with him.

"Quite so." Estel's and Legolas' eyes narrowed somewhat at the wistful look Indis wore as she continued to gape at them in their unclothed and compromising position.

"Indis? Indis!" Legolas raised his voice to get her attention. As she focused on him—finally—he continued, "Why don't you hand me those robes over there near table?" With one last glance at the embracing pair, she did as he asked.

Estel nearly chuckled at the ironic lift of her brow when she noticed his leggings and her brother's clothes scattered about (with one piece lying half-way in the water pitcher). Walking back to the bed with the garments, Legolas frowned, not at all pleased with her amusement.

"Why don't you wait for me outside the door? If Mablung should appear with Lord Estel's belongings, ask him to leave them outside the door; in fact, take that small stool there and place it outside—I'll join you shortly."

"Very well; just don't be too long. Very soon, this entire floor will be alive with servants preparing for the day." After picking up the stool, she added, "And by the way, I hope that you will have remembered your manners by then and thank me."

"For what—staring a hole through our guest?" The Prince asked sarcastically.

"For finding you here before Mablung did or—Valar forbid—Adar." Without waiting for a response, she swept out of the room leaving the essence of lilies and spring rain in her wake.

"She is correct, A'maelamin. Provided that she keeps our little indiscretion secret, we are in her debt. His Majesty—your father—will surely have me tossed into the dungeons as you said he planned to do before you spoke up for me." Estel frowned as he ran his fingers through the Prince's beautiful, but tangled hair.

"You do not regret what happened, surely?" Legolas looked devastated at the prospect.

Smiling in that lopsided way that made the elf's heart skip, the mortal said, "I would gladly go to the deepest, darkest cell in the palace and dwell there for the rest of my natural days for a taste of your sweet lips." He then proceeded to taste those lips with the sweetest of kisses.

When the kiss ended, Legolas kept his eyes closed, breathing a bit hard with his rosy, pink lips open—the sight of which made the dúnadan's heart skip beats this time. "Per..." Clearing his throat, the Imladrian tried again, "Perhaps we had better get dressed."

Legolas laughed heartily; Estel had the same dreamy look on his face that Indis had moments before. The Prince kissed the mortal with a hard, quick peck and jumped out of the bed and swiftly donned his robe before retrieving his leggings and shirt from the floor.

_Very lovely, my Mela._ The future King of Gondor smiled lasciviously as he savored the view of Legolas' pert little bottom before it disappeared from his view; he then stood, putting on his own robe. Unbeknownst to him, Legolas enjoyed a moment admiring his form, too before the man covered himself.

"I'd better get to my room and change quickly; I'll come back here to escort you to morning meal. Oh! My hair is in complete ruin—is love-making always this messy?" Fingers combed frantically through matted silver-blond tresses, braids half undone.

"I do not speak from experience, but I have heard that it is so if it's done correctly," Estel answered. Then, "You know, I never realized just how prissy you are about your hair; you are as bad as the Twins!"

"I am not 'prissy!' You grew up among elves; you know how important hair is to us. It's symbolic of our status as warriors...and it can be used to denote...rank and...and one's title...Oh, you know all of this." Braids now in place, Legolas finished buttoning his shirt.

"While I concede you caring about your warrior status, you never cared much for rank or title; so I can only conclude that you are being pris..." The rest of the statement was cut off when semi-damp leggings impacted against Estel's face and wrapped themselves around his head and neck.

"I am _not_ prissy." Looking every bit the royal Prince, head high and nose in the air, Legolas headed for the door, almost making it before being hit by the same damp garment that he threw at his true love. "That was un..."

"I love you, my Prissy Prince." He grinned from ear to ear at the 'stern' look the elf struggled to maintain, fighting his own grin. He finally lost the battle and answered the man's smile with one of his own before doing an imitation of an irate 11-year-old Estel as he lost his temper with Elladan—he stuck his tongue out at the future ranger and walked outside the door.

"Prissy," The Númenórean whispered to the closed door before searching through his pack for a carefully wrapped package that he placed inside before leaving home to find his mother Gilraen. With great care and reverence, Estel opened the royal blue velvet pouch and retrieved the beautiful mithril locket-pendant that Legolas gave to him for his birthday. The newly risen morning sun joined with the gentle light already flooding the room to make the cerulean-toned sapphire sparkle in its mithril setting. A tanned forefinger traced the jewel all over before the mortal opened it to gaze lovingly at the silver-blond tresses inside, the warmth of his love for Legolas flooding his heart and soul. He finally felt worthy to wear this gift and he vowed to himself and to Valar that he would never take it off—but first, he needed a bath. It wouldn't do for him to arrive at his first official meeting with Legolas' adar smelling of the Prince—and sex!

"He'd throw me in the deepest, dankest and darkest cell to rot forever—if he doesn't slay me on the spot!"

A light knock sounded at the door accompanied by the now familiar voice of King Thranduil's only daughter. "Estel? Mablung has brought your clothing; may I bring them in to you?" She asked hopefully.

Suppressing a groan, the man said politely, "It is kind of you to offer, but I'll gather them, momentarily—I'm still unclothed." The moment he said it, he knew that he should have rephrased the statement.

"I've seen you already; besides, elves aren't shocked by nakedness," She informed.

_Was that giggling?_ The dúnadan quickly discouraged her, "I appreciate that and your offer, but I can manage. Why don't you go help Legolas—he was having a difficult time with his hair." He waited for several minutes before opening the door, hoping that she had gone; breathing a great sigh of relief, he grabbed his things and locked the door.

Laying his well-worn, but clean garments on the chair that Legolas used to watch over him, he placed a tender kiss on the locket and placed it on the nightstand before entering the bathing chamber.

Legolas stepped out of his bath and grabbed a fluffy towel to dry off. He looked at his mid-drift and smiled as he remembered with fondness Estel's dark hairs stuck there by their combined essences. His smile grew as he noticed other things left on his skin by his mortal love—namely several red and pink marks left by eager lips and teeth.

"Legolas? I've come to help you get ready," His sister spoke from outside the bathing chamber door.

"I haven't needed help getting dressed in some time." He tied his dressing gown and proceeded drying his long hair.

"Estel didn't mind my help. He..." The door whipped open, revealing a very beautiful, but furious Prince. "Peace, Tôr dithen—I was only jesting. He wouldn't let me back in when I offered." Her crystalline laughter filled the room when her brother became even more incensed. "Legolas, please calm yourself! Here—let me help with your hair."

With one last warning glance, he sat before the mirrored table and handed her a beautifully carved brush. "You seem to have lost your sense of humor, Little Leaf." As she carefully removed tangles and snarls, she tried to catch his eye in the mirror as she noted the troubled frown on his brow. "Would you like to talk about what I walked in on?"

"Have you heard of knocking before entering a guest's private room?" He was still upset and fearful of what she planned to do. He and his siblings didn't enjoy informing on each other and they didn't make a habit of doing so; but they were obligated to tell their adar (and King) about situations that were potentially hazardous to Mirkwood or to the sibling in question. Their father worried over them and he demanded very little considering his rank; but he insisted that they keep their promises to him—and though Legolas had not technically broken his word about remaining pure, he had gone as far as he could before crossing the line. And knowing his adar, the King will not care to make that distinction.

"I always knock, Greenleaf; no one answered and I only meant to peek inside. I did not expect to see what I saw, however. What are going to say to Adar about this?"

"I don't plan to say anything! The question is what are you planning to say?" His voice sounded calm, but his eyes were very frightened as he awaited her answer.

The pause before she spoke seemed to take ages. "I plan to say nothing; but that is only because I can see how much you love him and I saw the way he was holding on to you—he adores you, Dear Brother. I have waited nearly two thousand years for someone to look at me in that manner. He's quite handsome—are there any more like him in Rivendell?"

"There aren't any more like him any where; he is one-of-a-kind." The Prince said with pride.

"But surely he is not the only beautiful man in existence? It doesn't seem possible or fair!" She pouted half seriously.

"I have seen a few attractive men near Lothlórien—men from Gondor and Rohan."

"Good. Because the only humans that I have seen up close came from Laketown and they were coarse, grubby and their teeth were brown. I thought that all mortals were like them, but your Estel has made a lie of that belief. I want one just like him." She had that wistful look again.

"They're not pets, Indis. And you will behave around him and remember that _he_..._belongs...to_..._me!_ He enunciated succinctly, looking at her menacingly.

"Not a pet? You sound very proprietary." She said, not at all put off by him. Changing the subject, she asked, "Legolas; what did Estel mean when he said that his name was 'Aragorn' in the courtyard?"

"I will let him answer that question; but I _will_ say that he learned something about his past that was kept from him and he is still trying to understand it. So, please be sensitive. He may have grown up around elves, but he still has some human sensibilities. Also, we wood-elves tend to be more blunt than the Noldo." Legolas chose a green and yellow-tinted mother-of-peal barrette for the top of long plait down his back and a small replica to tie off the end.

"I will respect his privacy, but I can't promise not to be blunt with all my questions. After all, I am my father's daughter. Why don't you wear this; it is one of Adar's favorites and you need all the advantage you can get." She said drolly, but candidly, handing him a light-green velvet tunic and leggings and a pale yellow silk shirt. "Legolas...what was it like...being...being with Estel? I mean...is it as wonderful as I...as you imagined it would be...to be made love to, I mean?"

Blushing profusely to be discussing this with her and also in fond remembrance, he answered, "It was wondrous being loved by him; he held me and he kissed and touched me...everywhere. And I did the same for him. But, you should understand—we didn't claim each other...completely. We plan to wait until we are bonded as Adar asked; Estel respects that. I just hope that we don't have to wait forever to wed each other." He stepped behind the changing screen, never shy around her before today.

When he had his clothes on, he sat down to slip on his boots. Finished, he headed for the door but turned back when he noticed his sister out of the corner of his eye—she was rearranging his bedclothes and pillows. At his questioning look, smiling mischievously, she said, "For when the servants come to straighten your room."

With one last look at her handy-work, she and Legolas left to join their human guest.

As much as Legolas and the Twins loved their hair, Estel hated his; hated it only as far as its inability to do as he wished—today that was the Elven style of Imladris. It refused to stay braided and confined to the ties and barrette he used in an attempt to tame its wildness. "To Mordor with you!" He slammed down the comb he was using—its valiant efforts thwarted again. Estel was very critical of his looks, but he needn't have worried—he was extremely handsome despite the loose tendrils and strands of his wavy dark hair.

Frown firmly in place, he turned away from the mirror to answer the knock at the door. Instead of opening it at once, he asked cautiously, "Yes?"

"It is I...Legolas." Smile replacing the sour look he had been wearing, he opened the door, uncooperative hair forgotten. He pulled the beautiful Elda inside and kissed him as if he hadn't seen him for years instead of only minutes. When he finally released Legolas, he stared at him lovingly and then placed a tender kiss against the pale forehead of the blond who still had his eyes closed savoring the kiss. "Where's your sister?" He peeked briefly out the open door and then closed it.

"I sent her on ahead. She's rather infatuated with you; I was tempted several times to throttle her; I never minded sharing with her, but this is where I draw the line—after all, you are _mine._" Legolas said, arms around Estel's neck, staring intently into his blue-green eyes, smiling.

"Yes, I am—mind, body and fëa." The dúnadan pulled the elf closer and tighter into his embrace, nuzzling his throat and kissing his temple. He leaned back and gazed into the bottomless depths of the Prince's blue eyes in a similar manner that Legolas had his moments before.

The Royal looked him over, noting how truly attractive the man was; about to tell him so, he became nearly speechless when he found his mother's locket hanging around Estel's neck. "You wearing it," He said somewhat unnecessarily, but very touched nonetheless. "I had wondered if...perhaps it was too personal a gift to give you. I mean...we hadn't seen each other for two years and then I...I didn't hear from you...I know why, now...but..."

"Shhh, Beloved. I am so sorry that I worried you. I didn't write at first because I didn't know how you would feel about me after you learned of my heritage...I didn't know that you knew. I put the jewel away because I didn't feel worthy enough to wear it; I wanted to wait until you knew and decided that you still loved me. But that is all behind us, now. You love me and I am so utterly in love with you; I can wear this with no worries. Thank you for so precious a gift."

"You are most welcomed, A'maelamin—however..." Legolas started buttoning the red undershirt beneath the V of his dark-brown tunic. "I don't think we should provoke Adar."

"Should I remove the locket? I had planned to never take it off—but if you think it best..." The mortal reached behind his neck to undo the clasp, unsure and disheartened all of a sudden.

"No, Estel! It is not the locket, my Love." He stopped the man's hands, kissing them in turn. At Estel's puzzled look, he explained. "It would seem that some ravenous elf has been making a meal of you as evidenced by the deep red marks on your chest and neck and...Should I go on?"

Laughing in joy and relief, Estel allowed the wood-elf to finish his task. "Has some voracious man been making a meal of you? Is that why you are wearing _your_ shirt done up to the chin?" He tried peeking beneath the blond's collar, getting his hand slapped playfully in the process.

"It is; although mine have almost faded. You—having less Elven blood—will be so marked for hours or days, perhaps."

"I hope they last for years—I like being marked as yours!"

"I shall just have to replace them for you—but later. Adar will be waiting." Surveying his work to make sure the mortal was well concealed, the immortal linked his hand with the Imladrian's and they left the suite to join the rest of the Royal Family gathered in the private dining hall.

The tension in the room was palpable and everyone seemed affected by it; everyone except Indis and Gandalf who made it their business to keep conversation flowing around the table by talking to each other or to the person closest to them. Estel suspected that their chatter and seeming good spirits were acts designed to lift the afore-mentioned tension—they needn't have bothered.

When he and Legolas first entered the hall, he was nervous but the warm pressure of the Prince's hand in his comforted him and by the time he had been formally introduced to Legolas' siblings (including Indis to whom he apologized for his earlier rudeness), he was quite at ease. He was especially delighted to see Gandalf and he and the Maia talked for some time about why he (Gandalf) was there and about the Istari's conversation with Lord Elrond who missed him terribly and how the Maia would support Estel in whichever way the young man needed him. All was going well in the Royal Dinning Hall; the man and Oropher and Elurín talked of Mirkwood patrols and Estel told them about his experiences hunting orc with his brothers and his recent trip to Tharbad. The mood was jovial—that is—until the Sovereign Ruler of Mirkwood arrived wearing a look so sour that Sauron himself would have cringed to see it.

The Imladrian squirmed under Thranduil's intense scrutiny as they were introduced, making him feel like the interloper that he technically was. Estel tried to appear calm for he wanted to make a good impression on the Ruler, so he remembered his training and gave to Legolas' sire the proper elven greeting (along with the deference one paid Royalty) by placing his hand over his heart; but by doing so, he inadvertently drew attention to the lovely pendant that he was wearing—the one the King recognized instantly.

If the man was squirming before, he positively shrank before Thranduil's fuming countenance. The Golden elf then turned his gaze on his youngest and the Prince seem to squirm a bit too, but he held his adar's stare, refusing to apologize for his gift, which made the Elvenking's mood darken further. The only relief Estel felt came from an unexpected place—a kitchen servant chose that moment to inform his Liege-lord that the morning meal was served and the poor elf felt the full brunt of his King's displeasure.

Gandalf, pretending not to notice the awkwardness going around, jovially proclaimed that he was starving and gallantly offered to escort the Princess to the table so all could break their fast together.

So, here everyone sat silently (for the most part) consuming the excellent food, lovingly prepared by devoted servants; food that could have been roasted orc for all the notice the King, Legolas, Estel, Legolas' brothers or Gandalf and Indis (though they put on a valiant show) paid the meal.

Legolas reached beneath the table and lightly squeezed Estel's knee and the man looked at the Prince with a grateful smile on his face before taking that hand in his. They gazed into each other's eyes and for a moment it seemed that only they were present.

Seeing the two so engrossed in each other only made King Thranduil more upset. Though he had only shown his anger earlier, the King was truly hurt and afraid of what this relationship between his son and the mortal meant. In his heart of hearts he had hoped that this was merely a passing fancy for Legolas—a first crush or some such triviality. But seeing the sapphire locket hanging around the adan's neck and seeing the way that the young Prince was looking at the man, Thranduil could no longer dismiss it. His first reaction to Legolas' announcement of his feelings for Estel and then dúnadan showing up unannounced had been truly upsetting to him; but after talking with Gandalf and then spending most of the night convincing himself that he had overreacted, King Thranduil had decided that he wouldn't let the situation get the better of him—that he would wait for Legolas to get over his ridiculous infatuation. But that hope ended the moment he walked into the hall and saw the complete adoration the Prince was bestowing on Isildur's Heir and the devotion that was being reflected back.

Then he saw that precious jewel that his late wife Soronúmë had designed and given to her young elfling hanging around Estel's throat. He knew then that his son was serious and that he (Thranduil) was in danger of losing the only real reminder of his wife left in his life—Legolas, who was the very image of her. Of course he still had his other children, but they all looked like him and his own father. No one but Legolas resembled the late Queen. _Well—I'll just have to put a stop to this; and the sooner, the better!_

Squaring his mental shoulders, the King of former Greenwood the Great got up from the table and looked sternly at the young lovers and announced, "I am going to my study," and when he had everyone's attention (Estel's and Legolas' especially), he ordered, "Eat quickly and join me there!" Staring intently at the objects of his displeasure, he left.

Legolas and Estel gazed into each other's eyes again, but this time with worry and trepidation. In silent agreement, they forwent the rest of their meal and rose to join Elven Monarch.

Estel was squirming—again! He and Legolas had been sitting before the blond King for about 30 minutes and every time one of them attempted to speak or move, Thranduil would silence them or stop them with a lift of his hand or a quelling glance. They both knew why he was treating them in this manner, but that didn't make the endurance of it any easier. So, they just kept holding each other's hand, showing the other their support.

"If you think that you are going to steal my child away from me, then you are sadly mistaken, _Mortal!_" The King's voice said coldly.

Estel was speechless; this was not what he expected to hear. He knew that the King would let him know that he didn't approve of the relationship, given how he felt about the man's ancestor, but this he had not anticipated. Estel had formulated possible responses or answers to questions that one would expect a disapproving parent to pose. But this? The man was nonplussed and he just sat there with his mouth opening and closing with no words coming out.

"Adar...that is not..." Legolas got only a few words out.

"Silence, Elfling! I am speaking to Elrondion here; _your_ turn will come next."

"Your Majesty, my intent...I mean...I would never try to 'steal' Legolas away...I could not even if I tried. He loves you and his home. I...I love him with all my heart and I only want his happiness. I would never try and keep him from his family...from you." Estel knew that he was rambling, but he felt that he had to get everything out before the King silenced him, too.

"What makes you think that you..._you_—above all—are worthy enough for my ion? Isildur's Heir, indeed!"

The contempt was not lost on Estel and he became indignant, but he refused to lose his temper. He was Lord Elrond's son, after all and had been far longer than he'd been Isildur's descendant (at least in his mind and heart) and his Noldo pride came to the fore.

"Your Majesty, I mean no disrespect, although you clearly have none for me; I am no commoner. I may not have known of my _Royal_ heritage before a few months ago, but I am Lord Elrond's son and have been raised as such—which is no small matter. I have been reared to be person of honor and I have striven—still strive—to be that person; that man. I am not Isildur nor am I the one who betrayed Middle-earth, though I have learned lately that I am expected to make up for that wrong. I say all this not to imply that I am worthy of Prince Legolas..." He placed a finger against the named Prince's lips when he attempted to contradict Estel's assessment of his worth and continued, "...I say this not to imply that I am worthy of him because of who I am now or was raised to be—that would make me seem vane or arrogant. I am worthy of Legolas because he has made me so—with his love." Kissing the blond's hand the man continued, "I love Legolas with all that I am and I love him more than my own life."

"A Life that is but a speck in the life-span of an elf; am I supposed to be impressed by that?"

"So brief a life makes it that much more precious to one whose days are numbered, My Lord." The dúnadan held King Thranduil's gaze without flinching. "I know that you disapprove of me and for reasons of which I have no control—my race and because of my ancestry. That is unfortunate; no one should be blamed for the misdeeds of another. I wouldn't want that any more than I would want to be lauded for the accomplishments of someone else. I would ask you to judge me on my own merits."

Legolas could stay quiet no longer. "Adar? What Estel asks is not unreasonable. Please give him a chance—give yourself a chance to get to know him. He is wonderful in so many ways." He smiled brightly—love and pride evident in his eyes.

"You are hardly impartial, Ion-nin." Thranduil said.

"Neither are you, Adar!" Legolas laughed and the uneasiness that had been dominating since the three of them came together suddenly lessened.

The King smiled fondly, but sadly, at his child; the fight that he had been prepared for went out of him in the face of earnestness that the two youngsters presented. He then turned towards Estel. "I'd like to speak with my son—alone. Please, leave us." It was a command, but the Imladrian was cheered somewhat for the Monarch had said please in a somewhat civil manner. Looking at Legolas who smiled reassuringly, he stood up after squeezing the wood-elf's hand briefly and left the two Royals alone.

"He's going to kill you, Little Leaf; he's going to kill my little elfling." Tears came unbidden to Thranduil's eyes.

"Adar—no! You mustn't think like that." The Prince went to his ada and sat on his lap much as he did when he was that 'little elfling' he father still considered him.

"What would you call it, then? I had hoped that this—what you feel for him—was a fleeting thing; something that would fade over time. But I can see it in your eyes and in his eyes; you two love each other deeply and now you have tied your fate to his. When he dies, so will you." They embraced for a time, Legolas not contradicting his parent for the King saw the truth of it.

"Does he know...will you tell him?" Legolas had his pale blond head lying atop his ada's golden one as Thranduil spoke.

"Someday. He still has some growing to do; when he has matured a bit more. The understanding is there somewhere inside him; he knows about the bonding of two souls, having grown up among elves. He will accept it (reluctantly) when the time comes." The Prince was confident that Estel would.

The morning wore on and neither elf made to move from their positions. After a time, however, they embraced tighter before standing up. The King walked the Prince to the door and gently pushed him towards the opening saying, "Go find Estel. I'm sure he thinks that I've hidden you away somewhere or packed you off to Valinor—which I have been seriously considering."

"Adar, that is not funny!" Legolas said with feigned indignation, though he suspected that his father was being truthful.

"Go on, Ion-nin; I have correspondence to pen." Legolas was gently, but firmly pushed out of the door.

"I love you, Adar." The Prince then sprinted down the hall, though he didn't have to go far—Estel was seated far enough away from the study that he couldn't be accused of eavesdropping, but close enough to keep the door in sight. The King watched as his son threw himself into the young adan's arms, the two kissing as the elf was spun around. With pain akin to an arrow through his heart, the Monarch, closed the door and returned to his desk.

Taking out a clean sheet of parchment, the Sovereign of Mirkwood dipped his pen in some ink and proceeded to write a letter to his future in-laws—an invitation to come to Mirkwood. The King said aloud in resignation, "Well, Elrond, old friend; it seems that we must plan a betrothal celebration." Placing the pen in the well and then picking up the miniature of the beautiful, late Queen, Thranduil said in a tear-filled voice, "Beloved; it seems that he will be with you and Ada in a very short time. I don't want to let him go, but I know that I will lose him sooner if I try to keep him from the mort...from Estel. I miss him already as I miss you." The King comforted himself with the thought that Legolas will be with his naneth someday, though he didn't know that for sure. No one seemed to know where mortals went when they left Middle-earth. He only hoped that that place and Mandos' Hall were one and the same—that Legolas and Estel would find the Prince's family there.

He smiled all of a sudden when he realized the thought of his son and Elrond's son being together—whether in Mandos' Realm or some place just for mortals—warmed his heart, lessening the pain of loss somewhat. Retrieving his quill, he began his letter again with a lighter spirit, "Now, where was I?"

TBC

Please review (Remember, no flames).

A/N: The epilogue is next; I plan for it to be as a normal chapter, but it will be the end of this story—think of it as a happily ever after. I plan some real heat, toned down for fanfiction sites with strict rules, but the un-edited version will be at my LJ and my homepage as well as other archives where my stories can be found.


	6. Epilgue Part 1 'At Last'

Revelations by Númenora

Rating: M, PG this chapter

Disclaimers and summary: See Chapter One

Warnings: Slash (M/M). This story is slightly AU overall and very AU this chapter—so there will be many, many liberties taken.

A/N: According to Tolkien, Aragorn was about 87 years old when he became King; for my purposes here, he will be about 55. The reason for this is because, while I can believe that the Man could wait 67 years to marry Arwen, I don't believe (and this could just be me) that he would wait so long to claim Legolas. There is a reason why he waited even this long, which will be revealed in part two. Also, according to tradition, Yule was celebrated as the winter solstice by the Germanic pagans on December 21 in the northern hemisphere and June 21 in the southern hemisphere.¹ For this fiction (and my other fic, 'Prince'), Yule will coincide with Christmas (December 25).

This is in two parts because there is so much that I want to cover, it will take a two-part Epilogue instead of one. Sorry for the delay and for those who are reading my other WIP, I will be getting to _Another's Guilt_ soon.

The title for the Epilogue is named for the title of my favorite Etta James song '_At Last.'_

Disclaimers and warnings: See chapter one.

Thoughts and stressed words are in _italics_

Past conversations denoted by ' '

Un-betaed, all mistakes are mine.

Part 1: Epilogue "At Last"

October 25, Year 1, FA

King Elessar Telcontar, the newly crowned ruler of the reunited kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor was frightened. Never in his entire life has he experienced fear of this magnitude. There had been numerous times when he had had to face his fears such as when he joined Elladan and Elrohir for his first Orc hunt and the first time he joined the Dúnedain Rangers. But for Aragorn, those times were more exciting than frightening.

There were other times where he really did feel fear and these came within the last fifteen to twenty years and were tied to Sauron's Evil. For instance, when he spent nearly two years alone in the wilds looking for Gollum and he finally caught the creature in the Dead Marshes in sight of Mordor. Seeing there the fallen elves and men of the First Alliance filled him with such fear and dread (and sadness) and being so close to Mordor made him realize the scope of what he had to accomplish and what was at stake if he failed. Then later, there was the time when he had to face the Nazgûl on Weathertop, Frodo's life hanging in the balance; and again in Moria when they lost Gandalf; and the breaking of the Fellowship when Boromir died in his arms; fighting against 10,000 Uruk-hai at Helm's Deep while severely out-numbered; facing the Army of Dead Men of Dunharrow and finally, confronting Sauron in the Palantir and again at the Black Gates. All of these tested Aragorn to the depth of his soul and he could have buckled under the strain at any time but for one strength, one constant—Legolas.

Legolas was always there—whether in spirit or in the flesh—with him. The beautiful and loving elf kept Aragorn centered and he knew that no matter what came to pass or what troubles presented themselves, he would be fine as long as he had his Perfect Prince.

But now, when everything should have been ideal with the fall of Sauron and the end to his Evil hold over Middle-earth, Estel (for Legolas still called him this when they were alone) felt only despair and fear, for his Beloved was gone and for the first time since they declared their love for each other, the man was not sure if he would return to him. Legolas _was_ his strength and he was now far away.

"Please come back to me, My Love—I miss you and I need you." The sun had not yet risen and his Majesty, King Elessar was standing on the balcony of his sitting room, looking out across the plains towards Mirkwood—the Elven realm that had his Beloved. Before Legolas left, everything was as it should be.

When the Ring was destroyed and Gandalf rescued Sam and Frodo, Aragorn had his hands full in the Houses of Healing; though out of danger, Éowyn and Faramir still needed him. But it wasn't very long after, that the healing of Middle-earth began and Legolas along with the remaining members of the Fellowship and the citizens of the White City aided their soon-be-crowned Monarch in this pursuit.

Gimli took on the role as overseer to the company of dwarven stonemasons who came to help repair Minas Tirith as well as Osgiliath and Ithilien. Legolas and Sam took it upon themselves to save the many gardens and the surrounding forest that lay in ruin both from the War and years of neglect under rule of the late Denethor II. Gandalf, the Twins of Imladris and the Dúnedain Rangers of the North (less Halbarad who fell at Pelennor Fields) and the remaining Rangers who served under Faramir spent months chasing down fleeing Orcs, Uruk-hai and Ringwraiths (who remained elusive). Aragorn accompanied them for a time, but had to return to the White City when the people began to despair that they might lose him before he had a chance to take the throne and return Gondor to the days when the great Kings of Old ruled.

He reluctantly returned when Legolas came to relay this message to him, the elf making him see the importance of the situation. Very soon he would be King and he now belonged to Middle-earth and her concerns were paramount.

Aragorn smiled when he remembered his response to this statement from Legolas. He said, _'I may belong to Middle-earth, but only secondly, for prior ownership belongs to a certain beautiful Elven Prince from Mirkwood.'_ He went back, leaving the job in the capable hands of Mithrandir and took up the mantle of ruler under the guidance of the now recovered Steward Faramir, the Royal Councilors and his more than capable betrothed.

The former ranger missed being out there roaming free in the wilds for the most part, but he never minded being with Legolas who was never far from his side. Even when he was hold up in some dusty room handling the business of running the Kingdom and the wood-elf was out planting trees, shrubs and flowers, they knew that only moments separated them and they could be together at any time and would be together at night—talking or loving each other in the manner that they established in Mirkwood thirty-five years prior. Then everything changed when Legolas was summoned home by his father King Thranduil.

It was three weeks to Aragorn's coronation and they were sitting in the newly restored Royal Garden sharing wine and food as part of a celebratory picnic to honor Legolas' work, who quickly pointed out to the man that Sam as well as several servants and citizens helped out; but Aragorn pointed out to him that while he appreciated their contribution (which he would acknowledge later), he didn't have an ulterior motive to get any of them alone—needing the Prince's passionate kisses as well as bestowing some of his own on Legolas. They had finished eating and was just getting to the passionate kissing when a messenger from Mirkwood arrived with an urgent missive from Thranduil recalling him home.

In addition to giving his father an explanation for joining the Fellowship instead of returning to Mirkwood after his mission to Rivendell was complete, Legolas was needed to secure Mirkwood that was still being plagued by Orcs and spiders, though many had fled when Sauron fell.

The dúnadan pleaded with him to stay, citing the need for the Prince there with him—Minas Tirith still needed his help. _'I need your help,'_ Estel told him almost panic-stricken. In a calm voice, Legolas reminded the mortal that even though he considered the White City his new home, Mirkwood was still the home of his birth, having lived there for hundreds of years and his adar needed him. His King still had his loyalty both as a subject and as a son—he had to go.

'_What of my coronation and our bonding ceremony—will you leave before the former and cancel the latter? And what of your loyalty to me as your King? Does that not matter at all to you?' _

'_Of course all that matters,'_ Legolas told him. _'But there is no competition between you and my adar—it is not an either/or situation. Once I become your consort, I will be a citizen of this great city, but for now, I am a citizen of Mirkwood and I am needed there. I will not leave until after your coronation, but I will—we will—have to postpone our wedding until I return.'_

'_If you return,'_ the man said petulantly. His mood was masking his true feeling which was a deep fear that had been steadily growing since he summoned the Dead to fulfill their oaths. What happened afterwards on their way to the black ships still haunted him.

'_I give you my word that I will and I have never lied to you.' _The blond turned Aragorn's face towards him, speaking directly in his eyes._ 'I. Will. Return. To. You! I promise.'_ Then he kissed his future husband and left to write an acknowledgement letter to send his father by way of the Mirkwood messenger.

The Prince was true to his word and left the day after Aragorn's coronation and ever since then, the man had tried in vane to push his fears aside and trust in Legolas' word. But Aragorn knew that sometimes people failed to keep their promises despite their best intentions. Boromir promised to protect Frodo and see to the Ring being destroyed, but he was nearly corrupted by the Evil thing and lost his life redeeming himself. Noble, honest people sometimes failed to keep their word when outside forces interfered and this could happen with his Beloved.

There was still evil in Mirkwood and it was infested with vile creatures with very little to lose; the chance to destroy the elves there would be a great motivator especially since many of the Firstborn had already sailed across the sea and many, many more were set follow. Middle-earth would be free of the Fair Beings once and for all and the Orcs and Uruk-hai would gladly die to accomplish this feat. In an effort to insure Legolas' safety, King Elessar asked that he take along with him the Dúnedain Rangers who were already dedicated to destroy the Evil Horde—but the blond Prince refused saying that King Thranduil would not welcome their help and wouldn't appreciate Legolas making such a decision that was clearly under the King's domain. _'If Adar needed outside help, he would have formerly requested it through diplomatic channels; he would be insulted, A'maelamin.'_ And that was the end of it.

And now, here Aragorn stood watching the sun rise over the healing city, seeing none of its beauty. Legolas loved watching the sun come up, often singing to welcome the new day while serenading Aragorn awake most mornings. There was no singing this morning, only the noises of a waking city and the silent breaking of its Monarch's heart.

"Aragorn. Did you na' here me knocking upon your door, lad?" Gimli was standing behind the man beneath the arched doorway leading to the balcony where he had been standing for hours. "You're wearing the same clothes you were in when last I saw you leaving the Royal Dining Hall. You haven't slept." The last was stated.

"I'm sorry, Gimli." The dwarf wasn't sure for what his friend was apologizing, but Gimli suspected that it had nothing to do with what he himself had been talking about.

"What troubles you, my friend, though I think I can guess?"

"He's not coming back." The Ruler said in a defeated voice.

"Nonsense! The elf would na' break his word to you—it's not in him to do so. You must keep the faith; he'll not abandon his true love." The dwarf was now next to Aragorn.

"He nearly did not too long ago. You remember, don't you? We had left with the Dead Men of Dunharrow for Pelargir to rout the Corsairs of Umbar and capture the black ships; when we reached the harbor there, I almost lost Legolas to the sea. He heard the call of the gulls."

Gimli closed his eyes briefly as he remembered the anguish that both Legolas and Aragorn went through—it was heart-breaking.

"It was like he was under the trance of some spell. I should have heeded Galadriel's warning; I should have forbade him to come with me and left him with King Théoden." Aragorn was reliving his pain.

"He wouldn't have listened even if you had. We were both determined to stay with you through it all. Come, Aragorn; sit down." Gimli led him to a chair just inside the sitting room, the pale morning light bathing the room in gentle hues of gold. "Don't torture yourself; everything worked out and you did na lose him." The dwarf was very worried about his friend. He prayed that Legolas would return soon. _If you don't get back here soon, I'll go and drag you back here by you're pointed little ears, Princeling!_

"It almost didn't. For a long while, Legolas didn't seem to know who I was and he fought hard to get away from me. I had to hold him and kiss him until finally, he became aware of me. I had to stay in physical contact to keep him grounded; he rode with me before Brego the rest of the day and when we reached the ships and the Dead destroyed the Corsairs, he stayed by my side the entire way to Pelennor. But I could still see the sea-longing in his eyes."

"You saved him, my Friend." The dwarf patted him on his thigh.

"Did I? I think that it was the battle and being away from the harbor where the seagulls no longer spoke to him." Estel doubted that he had anything to do with keeping his Prince from sailing West even though Legolas told him otherwise. He told Aragorn that even though he didn't recognize his voice or his face, he remembered the smell and taste of him and the feel of him. _'Your pull is much stronger than Valinor, Mela. I will always choose you.'_

"Nonsense!" Gimli was determined to get him out of this mood. "I'm starving; why don't we go down and get something to eat before those blasted Hobbits eat everything not nailed down?" The Halflings had remained in Minas Tirith after the Coronation, promising to stay for the wedding—Legolas promising to return before Yule which was eight weeks away.

"I'm not hungry, Gimli; you go."

"Not without you. Besides; I like being seen with the King—makes me feel important and you can na' believe the perks that come along with that!" Aragorn wasn't fooled for a moment by the Ereborean's 'reasons' for wanting to go to breakfast with him, but he appreciated the effort. He also realized that being with his friends might prove to be the distraction he needed to forget his despair. Afterwards, he would join Faramir and immerse himself in his duties, occupying himself until midday when he will be free once more to wallow in despondency.

"Very well, Master Dwarf; let's go eat me out of home and hearth before the Hobbits have the chance to do so!" He quickly washed up and changed his clothes—no need upsetting his friends and new subjects seeing him still in yesterday's garb—and then he and Gimli left his chambers.

They had nearly reached the stairs leading away from the Royal Suites to the common areas when he heard the trumpets blaring. Someone was returning home.

_Legolas._

Then aloud, "Legolas!" The King's feet seemed to take flight and he took the stairs two and three at a time, Gimli right behind (somewhat) fearing for the man's safety. Before he could reach the bottom, a Guardsman of the Citadel met him on one of the landings to inform him that a large delegation was on its way to the White City. A rider from Mirkwood arrived to relay the news, the main delegation just visible on the horizon. "I am told that they will be here within two hours. From what I can see, they don't appear to be in a great hurry, Your Majesty." The young man told his King.

"Where is the rider now?" Aragorn asked anxiously and somewhat impatiently.

"He is watering and resting his horse. That is what I am told, Sire." The guard was a bit nervous, thinking that he had somehow upset his King who was now running the rest of the way downstairs, Gimli following again, having caught up with him on the landing as he spoke with the Gondorian guard, but he lost ground once the King reached the bottom ran outside.

Estel was headed to the stables, not willing to just send for the herald. Before he got halfway there, he was met by his brother Elrohir who was leading a saddled Brego. "No need questioning the Mirkwood messenger, he was only told to deliver the message that 'a son of Gondor was returning home,' as evidenced by the horns." The King's eyes lit up, a huge smile alighting his face to match his sibling's. Legolas' message was loud and clear.

"Hannon le, Muindor-nin (my brother)." Briefly hugging his brother, Aragorn swiftly mounted Brego and raced through the busy streets of Minas Tirith, mindful of its citizenry as they went along with their early morning duties, delighted and curious to see their King riding through the city in a hurry and so unguarded. The pace he had to maintain was maddening, but once he reached the main courtyard leading out of the city, he picked up his pace—that is until he reached the main gate which was blocked, not only by the regular compliment, but by the Dúnedain as well.

"Stand aside good Men of Gondor (he included the Rangers). Your King will be leaving the city to go fetch his intended." Aragorn made to move, but the 'good Men of Gondor' stood their ground.

"Nay, Your Majesty. We can not allow that." Targon, one of the Northern Rangers said.

Elessar's brow raised incredulously. "Nay? Nay!" He shouted at his loyal subjects.

Not at all concerned, the Númenórean smiled at his former Chieftain and repeated, "Nay! At least, not alone." They entire group burst out laughing, happy to see an end to their King's suffering and loneliness. Aragorn smiled in return and allowed a small group of ten to escort him, Targon and one of his personal guards at his side as they passed through the main gates.

The royal entourage secretly smiled to each other and laughed fondly behind their respective hands at the First High King of the Reunited Kingdom. None of them would have voiced what they were all thinking, which was the man was truly adorable. He was fidgeting in his saddle, anxious to get to his goal like an infant who had just learned to walk and his mother was refusing to put him down from her lap.

In the last forty minutes, Aragorn had torn off his regal robe, tossing it to one of the Gondorians, and had been pulling at his high collar, cursing himself for dressing so formally this morning. Had he known that he would be riding out, he definitely would have worn his old ranger's garb—or something equivalent—since he wasn't sure where his old clothes were. He suspected that either Arwen or Legolas (or both) more than likely had them buried or burned them—afraid he'd don them some morning before attending a meeting with his council or hearing petitions in the Great Hall.

Some of the Dúnedains who, like Aragorn, had some Elvish blood, could clearly see the Mirkwood delegation and their colors, standards flying high in the late morning breeze; but they were unable to make out any individual person unlike their Elven counterparts. Legolas was able to recognize his Estel almost immediately since he left the confines of Minas Tirith, knowing that the man would be coming out to meet him once he received Legolas' message.

The Prince was just as anxious as the Gondorian Monarch, fidgeting in much the same way as Aragorn. Thranduil and the rest of the Royal Family were just as amused as the Gondorians had been, not in the least put off by the annoyed stares the beautiful elf threw their way when he noticed or heard their none-too-subtle snickers at his—and Estel's—predicament.

When they were about twenty minutes away from each other, Legolas and Aragorn would be restrained no longer, deciding about the same time to break away from their respective escorts. Brego and Arod (the Prince was gifted the stallion after his contributions during the War), feeling their owners' restlessness, were given their heads and broke into a fast run, dust of the once green plains flying in their wake.

Both Rohirric horses eat up the miles separating the two lovers, their companions keeping up, but at a respectable distance, until Aragorn and Legolas were mere yards away from each other. Slowing to a trot, the man and elf inched closer together until they stood side by side, one facing the other.

At first, they simply stared, Legolas drinking in the sight of Estel and he of the Prince. The King was dressed in finely-tailored clothing, rich fabrics befitting his station—strange to the Dúnadan, but they suited his handsome frame. The wood-elf looked like an exquisite, wild thing, hair free of braids and flowing, tresses whipping about his shoulders and platinum strands glowing in the late morning sun. His garb was a simple light-green tunic that resembled a long-sleeved shift, reaching down to his ankles, split on both sides—bare legs and bare feet showing. Aragorn was spellbound.

Each continued to gaze upon the other; then gradually as tears formed in cerulean blue eyes, the man reached his hand out to touch the Sindarin, coming within millimeters; enough to feel the heat emanating from the glowing, pale flesh, but not coming in contact, fearful the being would disappear like smoke through his fingers. Legolas closed his eyes and turned his lovely face into the cupped rough palm of his beloved, needing to prove to himself that the man was real. Once flesh touched flesh, it was all either needed to pull the other firmly within a tight embrace, causing the tears that Estel had been fighting to contain since his Perfect One left so many months ago to fall freely, drenching the sweet-smelling neck of the Mirkwood Prince.

With an anguished growl, Aragorn buried his fingers into elf's soft hair before pushing him away enough to devour the dusky-pink lips before him. It was not a gentle kiss, Legolas opening his mouth immediately, forcing his tongue into the, warm cavern of the Monarch's mouth, engaging _his_ eager tongue in a passionate duel. They couldn't get close enough, still astride separate stallions; so the blond wrapped his arms firmly about the former ranger and propelled himself from Arod's back to Brego's, seating himself astride the King of Gondor.

Abandoning the silky hair, Aragorn slid his arms around Legolas' waist, enveloping him and pressing the slender form closer to his own body as he deepened the kiss until the need to breathe forced the pair apart.

Breathing hard, the man said his first words to his betrothed, "Forgive me, Mela—please, forgive me."

"Forgive—why forgive?" Blue eyes puzzled.

"I...I lost faith. I did not think I would ever see you again. I am sorry." His voice was husky with his sorrow.

"There is nothing to forgive; I feared the same many times, My Love. My despair at being parted from you was nearly too great." The Prince was equally sorrowful. "But I was determined to return to you—no matter what it took. You do not need to apologize. But..." The elf paused, mischief replacing his sadness, "...If you truly wish to make it up to me, Your Majesty, you could..._beg_...my pardon."

Getting into the spirit, Elessar inquired, "Beg? As the newly crowned King of Gondor, I cannot beg officially—It would be..._unseemly._ We could...treat..._officially._"

"And unofficially?"

"Unofficially—and in private—I will fall to my knees before you and beg for your forgiveness and anything else you desire." He was nuzzling the wood-elf's fragrant neck.

"That sounds satisfactory, but I warn you, I am not so easily won over. I am a Royal Prince of Eryn Lasgalen, formally Mirkwood and the son of Thranduil. I expect to be given the due of one of my station; I will not be cajoled half-heartedly nor will I be won over by false flattery. I am above all of these things, but..." The beautiful Prince's dimples were on full display as he fought to keep a straight face.

"But," The Sovereign repeated enjoying the game.

"...I am not above bribery—of all kinds; both tangible and intangible.

"As Ruler, I can accommodate both; the tangible with jewels and the finer things—wine, food and song; and the intangible..." Voice trailing off briefly, "Would you be amenable to being adored and worshipped?"

"I like jewels," The Prince looked at his pale finger that bore Barahir pointedly, "And the finer things, _and_ you may also worship me." Legolas agreed magnanimously.

"With all that is mine and all that I am!" Aragorn said seriously.

Smiling happily, Legolas told him, "Then take me home."

The man and elf kissed tenderly until some not-so-discreet coughing reminded the two that they were not alone. Eyes opened moments before each broke apart, Estel looking at the Mirkwood Party and Legolas gazing at the Escort from Gondor, sheepish grins gracing the faces of the entangled pair.

Laughter flowed from all parties, elves and men. Estel's chuckles mixed with the musical ones of Prince as he attempted to right himself forward on Brego, the man assisting Legolas by lifting him at the waist. Once accomplished, Aragorn guided the horse towards the elven group, stopping before Thranduil and greeting him. "Mae govannen, Aran (King) Thranduil. Welcome to Gondor."

"Mae govannen, King Elessar—Hannon le." The Prince's father rejoined.

"Oropher, Indis, Elurín—You are all most welcomed here." Each sibling smiled their thanks, placing their right hands to their hearts in greeting. "Your Majesty, would you like to take the lead?" Aragorn inquired of Thranduil.

"Nay, Good King of Gondor. This is your Realm; I yield to you as I am but a guest here." Elf King said.

"I will take the point, Aran-nin, but you are wrong. This is Legolas' home and you are his family which makes Gondor your home as well. You are now and will always be welcome here—no invitation or formal notice will ever be needed or expected." With that said, the man turned the black stallion around and fell in step behind Targon and one of Elessar's personal guards who rode side by side, following the rest of the Gondorian entourage; the Mirkwood King and Crown Prince and the King's personal guards flanked the rear of the couple as Arod rode beside Brego, rider-less, but somewhat content to be near his owner. The Princess Indis and younger brother Elurín followed next, closely followed by the rest of the wood-elf delegation numbering about six hundred.

As the morning turned to midday, the jovial group moved closer to Minas Tirith, the mild winter weather pleasant, snow clouds nowhere in sight. Aragorn and Legolas talked quietly, whispering words of love and talking of their upcoming nuptials, planning to send out invitations right away to Gondor's allies—well, perhaps not _right away_. Tomorrow or the next day will suffice.

"You are truly stunning, Beloved. I love seeing you like this, but I am puzzled to see you without your warrior braids. Why is that?" He was very curious.

"Do you remember long ago when we were planning our wedding and I told you about Silvan binding traditions?" At the man's nod, which tickled Legolas' shoulder, Estel's bearded chin perched atop it, the prince continued. "When an Elven couple decides in whose home they will live, the one who leaves his home—usually his parents'—forsakes all his or her possessions and go to his beloved's home free and unfettered. They arrive not as a warrior or Prince or whatever their rank they may hold; they are as the day they were born—for they are embracing a new life. He or she then fall to their knees in supplication before their new home and kiss the ground there in acceptance. The couple stands together later and says their vows to complete the binding."

"Yes—I remember now. But, I seem to remember you telling me that the bride or groom, when they leave their former home to go to their new one, would arrive exactly as they came into the world—with not a stitch on. Am I mistaken, Love?"

"No, you are not mistaken. That was the tradition among the Silvans for centuries before my ada became their King. Since then, over the years, the tradition changed somewhat and total nudity was replaced by simple clothing and little or no adornments—though some elves still follow the old ways. I didn't think that you would appreciate me arriving in the old tradition—or would you?" The Edhel (male elf) smirked.

"Only if we were alone—though I'm sure the rest of my company as well as the entire adult citizenry of Minas Tirith would like it, being nearly as much in love with you as their King!" The adan wrapped his arms possessively around Legolas.

"If they are in love with me, they are equally in love with you, Coramin (my heart)." The Prince's arms covered those of the man. "We're nearly home," Legolas said in a happy voice.

Tearing his eyes away from the vision in his arms, Aragorn saw that they were indeed. Calling to his guard, he ordered, "Anborn! Let the good people of Gondor know that their long-missed son is nearly home!"

"Aye, Sire!" Anborn said excitedly. The trumpets blew to alert the sentries who in turn took up the call, welcoming their beautiful Prince back home. As the horns blared, the Elves began to sing, their voices not at all at odds with the mannish instruments.

From his position, Legolas could see his new family and old friends awaiting them on the steps of the Citadel, mere yards away from the new tree of the King, thriving where the old Mallorn tree stood lifeless for many centuries—a new life that seem to reflect and honor his life with Estel. The Prince smiled—he was truly home.

Gandalf waited patiently in the main courtyard near Lampwrigth's street for the large group of men and elves to enter the city. He and Shadowfax 'spoke' quietly, both eager to see Prince Legolas again and the joy returned to Aragorn's face. He and his old friend (who decided to remain with the Maia until his time to sail West) decided to greet the Prince and his family here, that way he (they) could ride along side and get the news of Mirkwood and welcome home Legolas before he is swallowed up by family, friends and the festivities that have been planned and tweaked and hurriedly implemented the moment word spread that a Delegation from former Greenwood the Great had been spotted and her envoy was within the City bringing the good news.

It was all the Istari could do to convince the Halflings—Pippin especially—to remain near the Citadel, citing that the crowds in the courtyard and lining the streets would make it difficult for them to give their missed friend a proper greeting. He smiled inwardly as he recalled Frodo's knowing smirk, the Hobbit even wiser now than he'd always been for one so young. He knew that Gandalf was as close to the Mirkwood Royal Family as one could be without blood ties, akin to a loving uncle to the Princes and Princess and a brother to the King.

Heavenly singing brought Gandalf out his reverie as well as the near deafening roar from the throng of gathered citizenry as the King and his Prince entered the gates behind their escorts of guards and rangers. The Wizard's heart skipped a beat as he gazed upon Prince Legolas—he was stunning, his beauty always apparent from the moment Gandalf first laid eyes on him in his mother's arms.

It was plain to see that the Gondorans were awed by all the elves, the Royal Family especially. But the elf riding before their King held a special place in their hearts and he could tell from the first time they all entered the city after the battle in Pelennor Fields that the people of Gondor were drawn to him; finding out that their future King was in love with the warrior elf made them fall in love with him too—though his exceptional physical beauty inspired other baser emotions tempered by respect.

The Wizard and Shadowfax moved forward through the flanking Dúnedain and Gondoran Rangers (who respectfully stepped aside) and smiled before wrapping his arms around Legolas, an achievement considering Aragorn refused to relinquish his hold on the Sindarin. "Welcome home, my dear sweet boy! You have been sorely missed."

"Thank you, Gandalf—I have missed you, too." The young Prince gave the White Wizard a tight squeeze, blinking back tears of joy.

Placing a brief kiss on the pale forehead, Mithrandir backed away to greet King Thranduil, the two smiling in a subdued manner though their love and respect were reflected in their eyes; he was then greeted less formally by the Sindarin children awaiting their turn with Gandalf, having not seen him for several years due to the business with the One Ring.

Before long, the group made to move the procession along—once around the courtyard to give all the people there a chance to cheer in greeting and then finally through each level, the streets strewn with heather and also wild rose petals that floated down from balconies and windows as they passed.

Many Gondoran natives would remark for days and weeks (perhaps months) about the spectacle that day, their joy tenfold at what they saw; not sure if they were more cheered by the sight of the future Prince Consort returned home or seeing the love and happiness reflected on King Elessar's face because of it. Either way, there would be celebrations and rejoicing from here to Osgiliath from this day onward until the Royal wedding and for weeks thereafter as Delegations, Emissaries and all manner of visitors come to pay their respects to the High King of the Re-united Kingdoms and his Royal Prince Consort.

To be concluded in Part 2

¹wikipedia website

A/N: The section that speaks about Legolas' hearing of the seagulls was inspired by Romi's depiction of it in her epic fiction Seven Deadly Sins, Greed Part Eight. It is no longer on the web, but if you contact her at her LJ which is 'Friends Only' (but she does accept emails), she may make it available for you. If you get the chance to read it, it is sooo worth it!

The Silvan bonding rituals mentioned were totally made up by me, partly inspired by Star Trek: NG and Betazoid wedding traditions.


	7. Epilogue Part 2 'At Last'

Revelations by Númenora

Rating: M

Disclaimers and summary: See Chapter One

Warnings: Slash (M/M). This story is slightly AU overall and very AU this chapter—so there will be many, many liberties taken. This chapter is un-betaed, all mistakes are mine.

A/N: Remember, Aragorn will be 55 at the time of his coronation (see part one A/N). Also, according to tradition, Yule was celebrated as the winter solstice by the Germanic pagans on December 21 in the northern hemisphere and June 21 in the southern hemisphere.¹ For this fiction (and my other fic, 'Prince'), Yule will coincide with Christmas (December 25). Also, I apologize ahead of time for my shameless use of flashbacks—they can't be helped!

The title for the Epilogue is named for the title of my favorite Etta James song '_At Last.'_

Disclaimers and warnings: See chapter one.

Thoughts and stressed words are in _italics_

Past conversations denoted by ' '

Part 2: Epilogue "At Last"

December 24, Year 1, FA

Steam from the hot bath filled the bathing chamber and surrounded the lovely elf as he submerged himself up to the chin. He breathed a sigh of contentment as the scent of chamomile soothed his nerves, scattering his frustrations to the four winds. He silently thanked the Valar that he didn't give in to his impulses to commit murder or beg Estel to carry out summary executions on his behalf (though he knew that he wouldn't actually do either). But he could dream!

The cause of his ill mood was indirectly linked to his and Estel's bonding ceremony that would take place tomorrow. While the actual planning of the event went along smoothly under the careful guidance of Elrond, Thranduil, Arwen, Indis and Faramir (who with Elrond, coordinated the traditions of Gondor with those of the Elven traditions of Imladris along with those of Mirkwood), other preparations hadn't been as smooth. There were certain duties that Legolas was expected to attend to prior to marriage and one in particular really tested his patience and good nature—Protocol lessons. Protocol lessons of all things! Bah!

"Calm yourself, Legolas—it is over now," the wood-elf said to himself, allowing the heat from the near-scalding water to soak away his ire. It was almost a losing battle, for every time he remembered the self-important and condescending looks on the faces of the Protocol Ministers, he gritted his teeth. Imagine those smug children trying to instruct him—Thranduil's son—on the etiquette of diplomacy and Affairs of State! Legolas was reared and pratically cut his even, white teeth on such matters hundreds of years before these infants were even a possibility. And Aragorn was no help in this, saying that he understood the elf's predicament, but he also had to undergo the lessons—it would pass. Legolas would simply glare at him before storming away.

But the King had been right; it did pass and he had his lesson today, the whole time imagining all manner of torture he would love to mete out to each and every one of the smug bastards. "Just think of tonight—tonight when I and Estel say our private vows to each other at the stroke of midnight, the first morning of Yule, to commorate our first kiss. The kiss that sealed our futures not so long ago." Legolas smiled at that, for this will be only the beginning—the official ceremony would be the next day at five in the early evening.

The day would start with a wedding breakfast in the Royal private dining room with family and close friends (who were thought of as family); then, any final fittings with the tailors or last minute preparations would take place—Aragorn would most likely be with councilors and Faramir who would be taking care of the business of Gondor while the King spends time with his new husband. Then at noon, the couple will attend a formal luncheon with the Nobility and visiting delegates, emissaries and other heads of State; then finally, the two of them will be allowed a short time to be together alone until it is necessary to get dressed for the bonding that would take place in the Tower Hall where the throne of the King of Gondor sits upon a dais; there at the foot, a small altar will be placed where the black chair of the Steward of Gondor used to sit before the King returned.

The simple altar is comprised of white marble with a flat surface where a single candle will be placed. On either side will be cushions for the couple to kneel upon while Gandalf recites a prayer of special blessing from the Valar on the union as done in elven traditions; after which Aragorn and Legolas will make their pledges to each other and to the people of Gondor (a blending of Mannish and Elvish wedding rites). After this, the candle is lit by both to show the union of their souls; then the couple will be presented to those gathered and to the people of Gondor waiting outside.

After this, the reception will start in the Great Hall of Feasts and at the same time, the people of Minas Tirith will be celebrating all over the White City. "Then," Legolas smiled with glee, "We will say our 'goodnights' and retire to our room and the real celebration will begin!" He and Estel had been making love to each other since the man arrived in Mirkwood unannounced years and years ago, but they had never gone beyond touching, kissing and orally worshipping each other. Tonight all that will change when they would finally and fully claim each other. Neither one could wait.

Estel was thinking along the same lines in his room (which soon would be Legolas' as well). He was half-dressed, having just finished his bath—not taking as long as the elf. He was staring at the marriage bed, imagining what would take place tomorrow night when they were alone. "It is finally going to happen, Mela—we will be bonded at last."

Aragorn felt a pang of regret when he thought about how long this was in coming; Legolas was thinking of this, too. They could have been married long ago, but that never happened and Estel knew that this was his fault alone, though Gandalf and Elrond would disagree—citing prophecy.

**Flashback:**

September 28, TA 2951

Lord Elrond and the rest of Estel's family, including Glorfindel and Erestor, had been in Mirkwood for nearly three weeks and the betrothal celebration was all planned. It would take place to coincide with the Yule festivities and invitations to Lórien and to some of the Dúnedain Rangers (Gilraen as well) who were especially close to Estel had been sent out.

Estel and Lord Elrond were awkward with each other at first—son, because of his behavior towards his father and the hurt he still felt and Ada, because he still worried that he could lose his youngest. After a while, however, they got past their discomfiture going off together at Legolas' suggestion and where they talked through everything, becoming close again. Estel seemed to have matured in Elrond's eyes and the Lord began to feel a bittersweet pang to realize that, in a way, he had lost Estel the boy, but he looked forwards to getting to know Estel—Aragorn—the man.

Everything was perfect as far as the adan was concerned except with King Thranduil; although the elf had given his permission for him to bond with Legolas, the elf Ruler made it hard for Estel. Everything that the dúnadan said or did was under scrutiny—at least it seemed so to him. So he decided to try and make Legolas' father like him or at least be tolerant of him. He didn't know that King Thranduil was deliberately trying to keep the man on edge, telling himself that he wouldn't make things too easy since he had to give up his child. Estel would have to work hard and suffer a bit more before he can claim Legolas.

The Prince figured out what his adar was doing and warned the future King not to worry too much, that his father would stop eventually. Estel wasn't so sure, intimidated by the imposing figure of the Sindar. He should have listened to Legolas for he made a decision that would affect both their futures in his attempt to change Thranduil's opinion of him.

It was two weeks prior to Yule and the betrothal festivities. Most of the guests had arrived, including the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood and Estel's birth mother, Gilraen (who adored Legolas on sight) and all were gathered in the huge formal Dining Hall talking and getting acquainted. Lady Gilraen and Halbarad were getting to know Legolas; Elrond, Galadriel, Celeborn and Gandalf were conversing on future matters indirectly tied to Estel; Elrond's children (excluding Estel) and Thranduil's children (excluding Legolas) were talking animatedly about past times together; and Estel, Erestor and Glorfindel were talking—mostly about how he was fairing and about when he planned to come home and resume his training.

Much to the man's misfortune, King Thranduil decided that he'd rather join the Balrog Slayer and Elrond's Seneschal and him. Estel was feeling as he did the morning after his arrival in Mirkwood—fidgeting much in the same manner. Even if the King wasn't scowling at him this time, he felt ill at ease—convinced of the elf's disapproval although he smiled benevolently during this interlude before the evening meal.

The mortal had been half listening to Glorfindel as he surreptitiously glance to his future adar-in-law talking about him and Legolas' bonding with Erestor.

The elf was telling the Mirkwood Monarch about how special he always thought the man was; even as a small boy. Thranduil seemed unimpressed, though inside, he actually was; especially when he heard the different tales of the boy's accomplishments—Erestor even related the story of how Estel won Legolas' heart with the mistletoe. Though the King had heard about it from his son, he was secretly impressed with how it all happened.

But Estel interpreted the Sindar's look as one of derision and hurried to explain how it all truly was; how he and Legolas were destined to be together.

King Thranduil responded by saying, "Yes...this is exactly what I had envisioned for my Greenleaf—to be bonded to a mortal with no title and no home of his own."

"That will not always be so, Your Majesty; someday Legolas with be the Consort of a King and rule Gondor with me." Estel said with a certainty that he was far from feeling.

"Someday? That is so comforting! In the meantime, I suppose that the two of you will dwell here or Imladris or perhaps you will make your home wandering aimlessly until you acquire this kingdom of yours?" Thranduil knew that he shouldn't have been so sarcastic, but his sadness at losing his ion to this man and to mortality came unbidden, making him harsh.

"I swear to you that I will do right by Legolas; in fact, I make a promise to you that when Legolas and I wed, he _will_ be the Royal Consort of Gondor's King—to me." The room fell into a hush as the Imladrian made this declaration, his voice rising above the den in the room.

Even if his voice had not traveled, every elf, as well as the mortals standing nearby, would have been able to hear him as he spoke with conviction—especially Legolas, who looked at him in astonishment. When Estel met the cerulean gaze of his beloved, he knew that he'd gone too far, the hurt clearly visible on the lovely face.

King Thranduil was also contrite for his part in the situation, but nothing could be done for it; he would not ask the man change his mind, nor did he expect that Estel would take back what he said. There would be no bonding until Gondor had her promised King; and that wouldn't happen until Sauron was destroyed.

The dinner that evening was strained between Legolas, his adar and Estel. Everyone else seemed to fare better for the most part, but they were all aware that the relationship between the man and the Prince had changed. Only Elrond, Gandalf and Galadriel knew that this was all part of the prophecy that was foretold of the coming of the King.

If Estel and Legolas married now, then there was a very good chance that Middle-earth would perish—for Estel would have his heart's desire in Legolas. Having to wait, the man would be motivated to embrace his heritage. The Elders understood this, but Legolas did not and he made his feelings about this known—not with words, but with chilled silence.

In the days following, Legolas rebuffed any attempts by Estel to speak with him about what happened. He would sit silently at meals talking only to his siblings, Gandalf or the other guests, politely refusing to reconsider his attitude towards his betrothed if someone suggested it. The only people that he didn't speak to in depth were Thranduil (who he also blamed for his part) and Estel—giving clipped or one-word responses (or none) when spoken to by them.

He wasn't disrespectful to his father—or Estel, for that matter—but he remained aloof.

Estel was worried that he was losing Legolas, so he went to find the Prince two days before Yule, unable to take the rift that stood between him and the wood-elf. The blond was on the Archery range despite the falling snow and the man stood for a long time just watching the elf shoot arrow after arrow into a target—never once missing the bulls-eye. He was always amazed by Legolas' skill and today was no exception.

After about twenty minutes, Legolas spoke. "You're not dressed warmly enough for this weather. If you are not careful, you will become ill, Mela."

"Legolas? You spoke to me...I...I don't understand." Estel walked over to his Prince.

"I only spoke to you because I know that if I did not, you would stand there and catch your death."

"I am so happy; I thought that you were still angry with me," The mortal said happily.

"I am," The blond said simply. At the unsure look on the dúnadan's face, he elaborated. "Do you understand why I have been so upset with you, Meleth?"

"Yes. It's because we have to wait to marry—that we may never do so if I fail to gain my crown." Contrition was clearly written on every part of Estel.

"That is only part of it, Estel. While I am not happy about having to wait to bond with you, that is not why I have been so distant."

"Then wh...? The Prince forestalled his question with a lift of his hand.

"I was very disappointed _and_ hurt—not by the waiting so much as by you making that decision on your own. It is not only your future, Estel, but mine as well; you should have discussed it with me first, giving me a say in the matter. But you didn't give me the choice and that is why I have been angry."

"Then you still love me—still wish to bond with me no matter how long it takes?" Estel was still uncertain, but hopeful.

"Of course, I love you! I love you more than my own life—that will never change; and I will bond with you however long it takes. But I am still angry—and I wish to remain so for another day or two." Legolas turned away to aim at the target, letting another arrow fly.

"Oh..." Was all the man could think to say to this, so made to leave.

"A'maelamin?" Legolas called to Estel before walking up to him.

"Yes, Beloved?" Instead of answering, the elf gently kissed his future husband on the lips before going back to his shooting.

With a happy, goofy grin, the dúnadan left the archery field, relieved for the first time since his blunder with Legolas' father.

Everything was right with them and their world of love by the night of their betrothal celebration and their families and friends were very happy to see it—especially King Thranduil who made an effort to be supportive of both lovers.

Later that night underneath the giant Mellyn trees in Legolas' naneth's favorite garden, the Prince and Estel kissed under dozens of boughs of mistletoe as the snow fell and dreamed of their future together.

**End Flashback**

Legolas smiled at the memory as he stepped out of the cooling water, wrapping a fluffy towel about his waist and grabbing another to dry his long hair. He recognized later that that night was one of those visions that he and Estel saw during their first kiss—a kiss that they will be commemorating later on. But now, he and Estel were expected for a pre-dinner get-together with their close friends and family.

As the beautiful blond sat down to his mirror, he began brushing and braiding his hair. After he was satisfied that he looked presentable, he donned his leggings and prepared to put on his undershirt of black—the perfect compliment to the red tunic that he had especially made. Red was one of the colors that Estel loved seeing him in, saying that it went wonderfully with his pale hair and skin.

As he slipped his feet into his black boots, there was a knock at his door. "Please enter," he called out, standing as Estel stepped inside.

He'd barely had time to smile his welcome before being swept into a very passionate kiss, tongue worshipping his own fervently. When the need for air presented itself, the man buried his nose in Legolas' neck kissing the flawless skin there.

"Excuse me, My Lord, but do I know you? Do you have any idea what the King would do to you if he caught you behaving so inappropriately with his intended?" Legolas' voice was breathless.

"He would have me executed, but I feel that it is worth it to taste so lovely a being as you, Pen Velui (Lovely One)." The King was staring lovingly at the elf. "I don't want to share you with our family; I wish to stay here until it is time to say our private vows." He was serious, all teasing aside.

"I feel the same, but the Lady Galadriel and Gandalf said that they had something special to give us; they were most cryptic." The Prince said with a puzzled look.

"They usually are! I don't suppose that they will ever stop being so. Shall we go then?" They linked their arms holding hands at the same time.

"I hope Gimli behaves tonight—he loves upsetting Ada." Legolas couldn't help smiling whenever he remembered the first time his father laid eyes on the dwarf.

**Flashback:**

October 25, Year 1, FA (Legolas' return)

It took the procession hours to travel through the city as the citizenry greeted the returning Prince and the Elven Delegation. Once they reached the top level and the Citadel, Legolas dismounted (with the help of Elessar who was loath to let go of him). He briefly glanced around before walking over to new Tree of the King, lovingly stroking it; then he kneeled down before lying prostrate and kissed the ground near the root of the thriving Mellyrn tree.

After he righted himself, he was nearly knocked over by the Hobbits, Pippin wrapping himself around the Prince's neck and practically cutting off his air supply. When kisses and hugs had been evenly distributed, he was next welcomed by the Twins, Arwen and Lord Elrond who was very relieved to see the Sindar returned to Estel.

Legolas smiled as Estel's and his family members greeted each other after so long an absence, the Mirkwood elves being introduced to the Shirelings as well. Then there was a hush as a very gruff voice spoke.

"Well, well—look what the wind blew in!" Gimli was standing on the steps leading into the Citadel with his hands balled against his waist, elbows akimbo.

Legolas turned and regarded the scowling dwarf. "Gimli. I thought that I noticed a dark cloud over the city on an otherwise perfect day," the blond rejoined. He was facing his dwarven counterpart with a scowl of his own.

"It is a good thing you showed up when you did for I was prepared to storm Mirkwood and drag you back here by your hair or those pointed little ears, Princeling."

"You and what army?"

"I'm sure that the Dúnedains as well as my kin would have accompanied me, 'though I'd hardly have needed them for the likes of you!" Gimli stated 'heatedly.'

Legolas huffed at this statement. "You truly think an awful lot of yourself, don't you? You must be compensating for something," Looking down on Gimli now as the two stood close.

"Now you just see here! Don't make me take you across my knee, Brat!" Gimli blustered.

"Now that would be a feat for you seeing as how you hardly have a lap!" Legolas threw back.

The whole time this was going on, the King of Mirkwood was staring hard at the dwarf insulting his son; he even grabbed for his sword until Gandalf stayed his hand, smiling asking him to wait.

"Wha...You...I'd like to show you...you..."

"Yes?" Legolas was nose to nose with his friend.

"Brat!" Gimli was fighting hard not to be the first to laugh or give in so Legolas cheated by kissing him on his forehead, instantly melting the Ereborean.

"Takes one to know one. I missed you, too, Mellon-nin." The blond was kneeling, being pulling into a fierce embrace by the dwarf.

Aragorn was looking on fondly, feeling relieved that his world was indeed getting back to normal. But Thranduil and Legolas' siblings and the Silvans from Mirkwood knew nothing of Gimli or the Prince's relationship with the dwarf, so were nonplussed at the scene before them. Things became less awkward as Legolas introduced his family to Gimli, but just. Then the gathered group went into the Citadel where many more people awaited, especially the Nobility and the King's Council and Faramir (Poor Faramir! He didn't know what he was in store for when Elurín and Indis laid eyes upon him).

And in the weeks following, the dwarf and the Monarch of the newly restored Eryn Lasgalen entertained a strained acquaintance, Gimli enjoying himself whenever possible, bringing up his predecessor's troubles in Mirkwood and 'insulting' Legolas in the King's presence.

**End Flashback**

It was two hours before dinner when the happy couple reached the drawing room near the Formal Dining Hall, family and friends already waiting. Legolas and Aragorn knew that things weren't going to be very smooth when they noticed the dark look on King Thranduil's face. Whatever Gimli had said hadn't sat very well with the elf and neither Legolas nor Estel wanted to know the details; they just knew that it would be best to change the subject, whatever it was.

"Sorry we're late, but you know how my Beloved loves to lollygag in his bath!" Legolas smacked his hand for that quip, though it was the truth.

"I wasn't the only one lollygagging, Mela. But, I do apologize for _our_ tardiness."

"Your Majesty, Your Highness," Faramir said excitedly (or was it in panic), then quieter near Aragorn's ear, "Thank Elbereth you are here!" Looking over his shoulder towards Elurín and Indis.

Aragorn stifled a chuckle when he noticed the desperate look in his Steward's eyes. "My poor Faramir; are my in-laws giving you grief? And what of the fair Éowyn?"

"She is not much better—all of them treating me as if I were the last food in Middle-earth and they are all starving." The red-head rubbed his forehead.

"Come, my good Faramir, let us go speak with the Lord and Lady of Lórien and Mithrandir—they have something to tell Legolas and me." The King patted his shoulder in support while Legolas smiled.

King Thranduil had joined Elrond, Gandalf, Celeborn and Galadriel putting a room's distance between himself and Gimli. He embraced Legolas as he came to stand beside him.

"Good evening, Adar; did you enjoy your ride today?"

"I did, Ion-nin. You should have joined me—the snow was quite exhilarating." He kissed the Prince at the temple. "Why the sour look, Greenleaf?"

Legolas was frowning darkly. "Protocol lessons! Do you know that those...those...sons of orcs not only felt that I needed instruction on court etiquette, but how not to embarrass Gondor in everyday situations—as if I would do such a thing?"

"Would you like for me to throw them in the dungeons, A'maelamin?" Aragorn said teasingly.

"Yes! For the rest of their days." Everyone laughed at that. "Forgive me my ill mood on the subject, but it is a sore one for me. My Lady, what was it that you and Gandalf wished to speak with us about?" Legolas looked inquiringly at golden Noldo.

"Actually, it something that we as well as Lord Elrond wish to do for you; but it will depend upon you, Prince Legolas." She said enigmatically, Gandalf and Elrond mirroring her.

Estel and the blond stared at each other perplexed. "We don't understand." The King said.

"You will—tomorrow. But until then, let's just say that your futures as well as Gondor's will be quite bright." The beautiful she-elf smile beatifically.

Everyone seem excited about the upcoming wedding and Arwen and Indis, who had joined Estel and Legolas (and Faramir), discussed last minute plans with them until the dinner gong sounded, everyone holding back as the small Hobbits made for the door.

King Éomer stopped briefly to speak with the Royal Couple, his sister on his arm. She was not pleased by Legolas' siblings monopolizing Faramir. Soon, however, all exited the drawing room, Elladan flanking Éomer's other side, whispering into his ear, making the Monarch blush and grin secretly. Éowyn rolled her eyes, muttering something about pretty elves being the bain of her existence.

The dinner was a festive affair with dancing afterwards as a band played. There were even fireworks curtesy of the White Wizard to everyone's delight, especially the Hobbits, Sam remembering fondly Rosie Cotton back in the Shire.

As the evening wore on, Legolas and King Elessar said their goodnights and the two of them retired to the King's sitting room to wait until it was time to go to the Royal Garden just before Midnight.

As Legolas stood on the balcony, Aragorn wrapped the two of them inside a warm throw, his arms around the wood-elf standing cheek to cheek. "You are very quiet, Beloved." Aragorn pulled him closer.

"I know. I am just thinking about tonight and tomorrow—It seems a dream." Legolas said, his breath visible in the frigid weather.

"A beautiful dream for my beautiful intended." The dúnadan could barely wait, the bonding a long time coming.

Legolas was excited too, but he was also thinking about what Galadriel said to him as he stood alone watching the rockets flare, Aragorn had been pulled away for a brief time. She walked over to him so quietly, he didn't notice her. Of course it was quite noisy with the excited crowd and fireworks, but it would have been the same without that.

'_Your sacrifice will not go unrewarded, Young One—if you are still planning to go through with it.'_ Legolas looked at her glowing face and said without hesitating, _'I am, Lady Galadriel. He and I were meant for each other and I can't imagine going on after he has gone. He tried to make me reconsider long ago, but now he realizes that I will not. It saddens him, but he understands.' 'Then I and the others have guessed correctly and it will be done.'_ As she walked away, the Prince tried to get her to explain further, but smiled mysteriously and went to join her husband.

"Are you cold, Estel? We should go inside, you will be out in the snow soon enough." He turned to regard the man, wrapping his arms around him to share his warmth.

"Alright—we can sit by the fire and practice."

"Our vows?" Legolas asked.

"The kissing for after our vows tonight _and_ tomorrow," The man said raising his brows up and down, sporting a wolfish grin.

"What am I to do with you!" The Prince's laughter was joyous.

"Marry me?"

"Everyday for the rest of our lives." He cupped the mortal's face in his hands before kissing him sweetly. Then they went inside to sit by the fire.

Just before Midnight...

The Yule lanterns glowed brightly reflecting off the snow, luscious boughs of mistletoe hanging everywhere in the beautiful garden beneath the evergreens. All of this was just a backdrop to the beautiful couple that stood staring in each other's eyes with great love and devotion.

"Are you ready, Mela?" Legolas asked the man before him.

"I am. Should I start?" At the Sindar's nod, he cleared his throat a little nervously. "I don't know what I did to deserve someone so special and as wonderful as you are; I only know that from the moment I first set eyes upon you, my heart soared. Being as young as I was, I didn't truly understand it mentally, but I believe that my soul knew you and it still does. I can not imagine my life without you and I thank you for loving me and standing by me for so long—in spite of my many faults and failings. I shall love you until the day that I die, Legolas, and beyond."

"Oh, Estel—I have never considered anything that you have done as a failing and as for your faults, they are a part of you and I love them as much as I love you; how can I not? I was always drawn to you from the beginning and I felt so flattered and touched that you as a small boy was so enamored of me; but when I nearly lost you that Yule, I had to do something to show you that I did care for you. That's when it all started for me and I kissed you; I saw the man you would become and I loved you with all my heart. I can't imagine that ever changing, for my life is with you and I will love you until time itself stops and this life and the next is no more." Tears were streaming from both males eyes and though the official ceremony was later that day, they felt in their hearts that they were already wed and they kissed tenderly.

The bells began, and from somewhere and everywhere, music and singing began, ushering in the first day of Yule and the happy pair began to dance.

December 25, the next day...

Aragorn and Legolas couldn't stop grinning at each other. It has been that way since they said their vows the night before; after they took their leave of each other (which was very hard indeed), they went to separate chambers alone, knowing that it would be for the last time. Neither the King nor the Prince got much sleep, their heads so full of the other and their bonding ceremony that was only a few hours away.

"What are you thinking, Estel?" Legolas carded his fingers through the dark wavy hair at the nape of the King's neck. They were sitting in the common room in the Royal Family wing.

"I can barely think when you touch me!" He kissed the elf sweetly then said, "I am thinking that at any moment, my brothers will be coming to whisk me off to get dressed and yours will probably be doing the same."

"And Adar as well. I just hope Gimli keeps his promise to be nice today; it will be hard enough for my father to escort me and hand me over to you."

"I know. He stands to lose you—in more than one way." Estel looked truly sad as he said this, kissing Legolas' hands.

"Don't be sad, Meleth-nin. This is a day of celebration—it is meant to be this way." He kissed the man's forehead as he spoke.

"Is it truly? It is not too late to change your mind." The King was almost desperate.

"Don't you want to marry me?" The Prince asked in a teasing manner.

Estel was serious when he answered. "That's not what I mean and you know that," He sounded miserable.

"Yes, I know. Would you rather that I fade from my grief when you are gone? I would you know—it is a painfully sad death for an elf."

"I'd hope that you would take the ship to Valinor where you wouldn't grieve." The dúnadan tried one last time.

"That is not my fate; besides the Lady Galadriel said that my sacrifice will not go unrewarded—I don't understand what she meant, but it is very important to her, Gandalf and your ada. Now, give me one of your crookedly handsome smiles I so love."

As he gave the Prince one, he started to feel a little better. Just then his brothers and Elrond came for him. A short time after, Legolas' brothers came for him as well, meeting him half way to his quarters.

Later that Afternoon...

Arwen was so proud of Estel—not only as a King—but as the good and kind person that he'd become. She wished that his mother could have lived to see this day. The last time that Arwen had spoken to Gilraen, she told Arwen that she wouldn't be around for the bonding, but that she had foreseen what would come to pass through a vision; that she knew that Aragorn would be a fine King and that Legolas would be by his side and the two would secure the future of Gondor and the Reunited Kingdoms.

The last was said enigmatically, but Lady Arwen didn't think any more about it until recently whenever she would catch little bits of conversation between her father, Gandalf and her grandmother—most peculiar.

But enough wool-gathering! She was here to check that her brothers were ready just as Indis was seeing to hers. She knocked briefly on the door of the antechamber and was admitted by one of the Rangers from the North who would be escorting King Elessar to the Throne Room. Next, at the answer to her knock on the bedroom door, she entered with a teasing note in her voice, "Legolas will never forgive you if..." What she had been meaning to say stilled upon her tongue at the sight before her.

Estel was standing before the mirror as his winged-crown of gold and mithril was being placed upon his dark head; his hair longer than during the war and worn in the Noldo style of his adar and brothers. Arwen had thought that the man was quite handsome at his coronation, but today he was positively breath-taking in black. He wore a long tunic of black suede that fell well below his knees over black pants, tucked in high-polished black boots. The tunic had a high rounded collar with V at the neck and long sleeves; the collar and cuffs were trimmed in black and white candy-striped piping of silk. Underneath the tunic, was a snow-white silk shirt that showed at the V and through the sleeves that had slash vents on the on either side of the arms. On the right breast was the emblem of the White Tree of Kings and on the left over his heart was a simple emblem of a sprig of mistletoe.

Where was the little boy that she and her father raised? In his place stood a very handsome and confident High King of Gondor and Arnor preparing to bind himself to the love of his life. There was a definite tug on her heart strings and as she glanced over at Lord Elrond, she was sure that the same feelings that went through her, were affecting him as well.

"Oh Estel—you are beautiful!" Tears were welling in her eyes as she said this and Aragorn walked over to her and took her hands in his; he didn't want tears, for he himself were close to shedding them, so he resolved to lighten her mood, "How many times must I tell you and Legolas that _I_ am the ruggedly handsome one and _he_ is the beautiful one!" He grinned that little boy grin that he always used on her to get something he wanted (whether a treat or his way) and it never failed to work—he got her to smile and he wiped away the tears.

"Well, we had better get going or your beautiful Legolas will be most perturbed at having the ceremony delayed!" She cupped his face and kissed both cheeks before stepping back to let Elrohir place the sleeveless robe on his shoulders, the lovely sapphire and mithril locket gleaming against the white shirt.

After exiting the rooms, the group began their long trek from the King's House with Turgon (now Chieftain with the passing of Halbarad) at the front, followed closely by two other high-ranking Dúnedain Rangers carrying standards—one of Númenor and one of Gondor; next were Lord Elrond with Arwen on his arm as the King's 'parents;' then came the King himself, followed by his brothers Elladan and Elrohir who were acting as protectors since he would not be bearing arms this day—Elladan carried Andúril (in the King's stead) along with a long knife and Elrohir, his bow and a standard reflecting Rivendell, the King's first home. Following behind them, were four more rangers bringing up the rear.

When they reached the foyer leading to the Throne Room where the many guests awaited, they were met by Faramir who ordered the doors thrown open and at his nod, trumpeters blew their horns briefly and the Steward's voice rang out, "Here ye, o citizens and friends of Gondor—King Elessar Telcontar walks among you! Today is a day of great rejoicing and celebration; for he is to be wedded to our beloved Prince Legolas of Greenwood the Great and Minas Tirith, hero of the Great War of the Ring!" The procession followed Faramir down the long aisle leading to the altar where the White Wizard stood.

Legolas and his entourage left his chambers at the appointed time, about ten minutes after the Aragorn's. The Elven Prince was a vision in cream and green—the colors reminiscent of mistletoe which was his request for his wedding attire. His garb was similar to Estel's, except his was made of raw silk and more elvish in style; the tunic itself was cream and it fell nearly to his ankles over cream leggings and soft cream-colored boots. It had a wide belted sash of green, inlaid with cream thread embroidered in stylized mistletoe leaves and berries. The outfit was covered by a light robe in the same green. On the front of the tunic was an emblem of the White Tree on the right and like Estel's, a sprig of mistletoe (their flower) over his heart, each trimmed in green.

Legolas had also allowed his hair to grow longer and it fell in pale-gold tresses down his back to the waist; his warrior braids were as always, at his temples, but they were joined by several more that lay on either side of the widow's peak and one more between these and the ones at the temple and all were gathered at the back of his head to join the hair cascading down the beauty's back. And finally, upon his head, he wore a beautifully wrought crown designed by him and cast by Gimli. It was made of gold and mithril like the King's, but it's deceptively simple design was quite exquisite like the Prince himself. It was a swirl of elm limbs and branches intertwined; and interspersed among the branches were their beloved mistletoe with tiny mithril leaves and gold berries.

The sight of him made his family very proud and like Arwen, they fought to keep tears at bay. Legolas' entourage was comprised of elves from former Mirkwood, his family and Guards of the Citadel representing Gondor, the wood-elf's new home and his friend Gimli the dwarf Lord. The two guards (one carrying the flag bearing the White Tree) were preceded by Fingolfin (the elf who often acted as the Prince's body guard at home) who carried the standard bearing the colors of Eryn Lasgalen. They were followed by Oropher, Legolas' eldest brother and Indis, the next oldest child; behind them came Legolas and his father who stood at his side in the tradition of the Silvans; following them, came Elurín and Gimli, flanked by Thranduil's personal guards bearing bows, longknives and swords. Finally, a group of eight (four elves and four elleths) trailed all, singing a beautiful, ancient song of love.

When they reached Faramir who had returned to await the Prince, he announced Legolas in a similar manner as was Aragorn. The gathered guests had exclaimed excitedly when the King entered, his handsome visage and regal bearing awe-inspiring; they were also quite taken with the beauty of his Elven family. But all were beyond words when the Prince's escorts entered; these elves were beautiful as well—especially the Royal family. But Legolas himself was unmatched; not even Arwen who is considered the most beautiful she-elf since Luthien could match the future Royal Consort of Gondor. If any being there had been polled as to their opinion on the subject, the majority would have agreed that Legolas was the epitome of beauty; be it male or female of any race in all of Arda.

The room seemed entranced, no one more so than the man waiting with his family at the foot of the dais. The smile alighting his face was beyond happy and the one upon his Sindarin groom's face was just as joyous—they had eyes for no others.

The ceremony was a simple one; when the Prince arrived at the altar, he kissed his adar and turned to Aragorn. After first Aragorn and then he pledged to serve each other as they serve Gondor, they kneeled on the cushions, facing one another clasping hands. Gandalf asked that the couple's family hold hands as they encircled the pair.

The Istari held his hands high, speaking in ancient Quenya, "Oh bless the joining of Elessar Telcontar and Legolas Thranduilion; grant them a marriage of love and happiness and bless their union with new life." As he finished, Estel and the Prince looked at each other with puzzled expressions at the last part of his statement, but had no time to ponder as Gandalf repeated this blessing in Westron, changing the last part to "Long life." Perhaps the Maia misspoke?

As he finished, they stood and was given two small lit tapers to use to light the large candle on the top of the marble altar. Once this was done, the two moved to the front of the gathered mass, smiling as they continued to gaze in each other's eyes.

"My dear friends—I give you His Majesty, King Elessar and his Royal Consort, Prince Legolas Telcontar!" Gandalf's voice boomed.

As the room erupted with rejoicing, a lovely auburn-haired girl of about six walked carefully to the front where the couple stood. As she stood before the two, she curtsied, trying desperately to balance a silver-domed tray.

Legolas smiled at her a bit confused for they hadn't practice this part during the many rehearsals their sisters insisted upon. When he looked to his new husband, the man smiled secretly, then he thanked the child, lifted the cover and handed the top to Gimli who smirked. When the Prince saw what was there, he placed his hand over his heart, tears threatening.

Estel lifted up with great reverence, a perfect bough of mistletoe—as perfect as the one long ago. He placed it above his husband's lovely head and bent to kiss Legolas' perfect lips. It was the second sweetest kiss in the history of kisses; second only because, where their first had the top distinction due to its chasteness, this one was laced with a deep passion born of their love. This kiss was the most beautiful of kisses ever witnessed by the many guests, family and friends present.

When breathing became an issue, they parted reluctantly, the little girl gaping until her mother came to usher her away. Estel and Legolas stood as their families embraced them, before they walked back out of the hall and outside to briefly greet the people standing in the snow around the Great Court of the Fountain. The people were a cross-section of the population of the Minas Tirith due to a lottery that was held where all had the opportunity to be present when the Royal Couple made their appearance after the wedding.

In the coming week, the couple will arrive on the steps everyday for a week for a few minutes (the inclimate weather not good for the mortal population) so that others who were lucky enough to draw winning lots can see them. After this duty, the pair would be free to be alone.

After the cheers died down and King Elessar and Legolas said a few words of thanks, they went back inside and was met by their families and then made their way the Great Hall of Feasts for the wedding banquet where an evening of receiving lines, gifts, well-wishing and dancing would take place.

Later that evening in the King and Consort's bedroom…

Legolas stood before the mirror in the bathing chamber; he had been in the room for nearly an hour. After leaving the wedding feast where they (especially the Prince) danced nearly every dance either with each other or the guests, he felt that he needed to freshen up. It had been a glorious night; the only part not so enjoyable, was the endless receiving line. It was bearable only because Aragorn was beside him, holding his hand or holding him around his waist, close to the mortal's body.

Legolas smirked briefly as he thought of Lord Belecthor (Chief Minister of Protocol), knowing that the man must be scandalized seeing King and Consort so familiar with each other in full view of the public; but he didn't care. He was very happy. He was also truly grateful that Gimli and King Thranduil had been getting along; mostly because they stayed away from each other—the dwarf spending the majority of his time with Lady Galadriel and the King, with Lords Elrond and Erestor (who arrived the day before). He and Aragorn were very pleased to see Faramir enjoying himself finally; the Steward informing them that he was going to stop fighting and let his admirers court him to their hearts content and he would make a decision concerning which he preferred later—or he would not.

Then, the feasting began and afterwards the gift-giving from the guests; the Prince and his husband were delighted by the wide variety of gifts—not for their actual costs, but for their intrinsic value, coming from foreign realms. Legolas truly appreciated the gifts of live plants from the elves of all three realms and Estel was touched by the specially designed metalwork items gifted to them by Gimli and the company of dwarves. The entire evening was magical, but the King and Consort were eager to be alone, so as soon as it was appropriate, they said their goodnights and retired to Aragorn's (and now Legolas') chambers. Right after they entered, nerves hit and the Prince made his excuse, citing the need to bathe.

Aragorn didn't agree, for Legolas could spend hours in the sun and still smell as fresh as a spring morning; but he didn't comment, smiling at his beloved as he closed the door. The King felt that they both needed a moment before they consummated their long awaited union.

This is why Legolas was still inside staring at his reflection—he was nervous. "What is wrong with you? You have been waiting for this for 35 years—to finally _be_ with Estel." Taking a deep breath and tying his sash more securely, he squared his shoulders and walked into the bed chamber. Aragorn was sitting on the edge of the bed and jumped up anxiously when the door opened and the Prince came out. When the blond saw him, he was relieved that it wasn't just him—his husband was as nervous as he.

Aragorn's heart was racing; at first, it was because their moment had arrived, but when he saw the Prince standing before him, he became completely entranced. Unbeknownst to him, Legolas felt the same about him. After seeing each other all day in elaborate and regal clothing (as stunning a couple as they made) this was how they loved seeing each other most—in simple garb or near nothing at all, wearing only robes.

They slowly made their way to each other, clasping one hand and touching one another's faces with their other hand. Just as he was the day of his return and during the evenings, the Prince's hair was loose and unbraided. Aragorn knew that it wasn't right, but he loved seeing the blond tresses free-flowing and the length that it was now; he wanted to (and did) run his hands all the way through the silky strands.

All they needed was to touch and all apprehension fell away, lips meeting at first gently and then with much passion. The candlelight and the light from the fire, bathed the room in a romantic glow. "Oh, Mela; is this real? Are we finally wed—bonded for all time?" The King felt like he was in a wonderful dream that he never wanted to awake from.

"Very real, my Love; I am your husband and you are mine. We are wedded to each other at last—forever," Legolas kissed him to punctuate this, "And ever," Kiss, "And ever!" The man buried his hands in the silky hair again and deepened the kiss more, taking the elf's breath away.

"I want you now, Love. I want to be inside of you and I want you in me," His lips nibbled the pale, fragrant neck, Legolas bearing it further. As Estel continued to ravish his husband, he untied the sash to his robe, pushing it off the finely toned shoulders, the light fabric pooling at the Prince's feet. Elessar stepped back to take in the sight before him, "I never tire of seeing you like this; you. Are. Exquisite!"

The wood-elf allowed the man to look his fill before he then removed Aragorn's robe. "I feel the same; never wearying of beholding you in naught but your skin." Serious all of a sudden, Legolas pulled the dúnadan close, "I want you, too—let us go to bed!"

They ran like children, jumping on the huge four-post bed, coming together in a heated kiss. They knew each other intimately—what the other liked and how to make the other purr like kittens. Legolas carded his fingers across the man's hairy chest, tweaking his nipples as Estel nibbled the elf's ear, licking and chewing on the point. The Consort growled lowly in his throat as Aragorn went from ear to ear driving the beauty crazy with lust.

Legolas pushed the man down roughly, straddling him while gazing down at him with a wildly wicked grin on his lovely face, running his tongue along his lovely lips hungrily. "What shall I taste first, hum? Maybe these?" He tweaked the man's swollen nubs again, "Or this?" The navel, "or…" He ran his forefinger along the King's hard shaft, encircling the large head. Aragorn nearly came from the sight of his Prince licking his essence from that pale digit.

"Ummm…very, very tasty, my Love; I must have more!" The blond ran his tongue along his husband's length, up and down as it lay against the hirsute abdomen making the man growl this time.

"That feels so good, A'maelamin." The dúnadan lightly caressed the elf's head, the soft hair covering the elf's face, pooling around Estel's lower body. His breath hitched as the questing mouth took the tumescence into his mouth, swallowing him half way before pulling back to encircle the head, gathering more of the nectar there before taking his thickness entirely down his throat.

Pale hands touched the man's tanned frame everywhere they could reach. Releasing the swollen flesh, Legolas began suckling the dangling orbs pooled at the juncture between Estel's legs. He adored his mate's taste—_his_ mate! How he loved the sound of that.

Aragorn lower region rejoiced in the sensations his beloved was creating with his very talented mouth. "I am so blessed to have you in my life, Legolas," His voice hitched as he spoke causing the elf to stop his ministrations.

"Estel? Oh, Meleth; I am blessed to have, too." The blond lay atop the adan kissing him both passionately and tenderly at the same time. They kissed for quite some time until the need to be joined (finally) hit them.

Aragorn turned over until Legolas was beneath him, leaning on his elbows to keep from crushing the lighter framed being. He kissed the Prince briefly before taking one rosy peak sitting atop the elf's pale breast into his mouth, nursing it for what seemed forever before treating the other in the same manner.

Legolas always became very vocal whenever the man nibbled his flesh, spurring him to double his efforts which made the beauty shriek louder. The only action that made him scream louder was when Aragorn took his slender column into that warm mouth, bringing him to the point of release before backing off, only to do so again and again.

"Farn, Estel! Garo nin!" (Enough, Estel! Take me!)

Taking one last plunge down the sweet flesh, the King obeyed and reached over to the stand next to the huge bed and retrieved the small jar of oil that he secreted there. He passed the jar to his Prince, then he parted the slender legs, draping one limb over his shoulder and laying the other to the side, bent at the knee. Aragorn parted his lover's nether cheeks and ran an oiled finger along the crevice back and forth, finally stopping at his puckered entrance where he circled the small opening before pushing carefully to gain entrance.

Though neither of them had ever been fully taken, they had in the past touched the other here, giving the other pleasure. Aragorn knew from experience how tight the elf was, so he was very mindful not to rush in his preparations. When one digit went in easily, he added a second finger, scissoring the opening to stretch it so that a third could be added ere he himself could fill his love.

Legolas panted with anticipation as Estel continued to ready his opening for the man's considerable girth. When those gifted digits touched his pleasure spot, the Sindar's back came off the bed, pushing himself fully onto the questing fingers and shrieking his pleasure simultaneously.

Estel chuckled at his passionate lover and kissed the inside of his bow-shaped leg before removing his fingers. Taking the other leg, he draped it over his other shoulder, then moved closer to the Prince who began to coat the former ranger with oil as they kissed. With the jar safely on the nightstand, the mortal placed his hardness at the virgin portal of his husband; staring into his mate's blue gaze, Aragorn silently asked permission before breaching the tight channel.

Legolas inhaled sharply at the brief pain—his guardian ring resisting the large head as it pressed through. Aragorn halted, "Legolas, I'm so sorry—I did not mean to hurt you!" He waited to give the wood-elf time to adjust, ready abandon the act if Legolas changes his mind.

"No, no, my Love; the pain was brief. I just need a moment." Estel kissed his forehead and then his eyelids before taking the beautiful lips again, stroking the elf's tumescence to help ease the pain and relax him. I am ready now; please join with me—I want to know you this way."

The dúnadan began to push inside him again, carefully backing off before going in further until, finally seating himself fully. The man felt huge to Legolas and as the two lay chest to chest, arms encircling. The Prince could feel the tremendous effort it took for his husband to stay still, giving him the time to adjust to the man's size and he loved him for his care as in all things.

"I am ready for you—please love me, A'maelamin." Legolas threaded his fingers in the dark wavy hair, caressing the King's skull before kissing him.

Aragorn began to move inside his lover, gently at first, then gaining momentum, the elf meeting him thrust for thrust. Pleasure assailed both males, neither having felt this level of delight before—Estel, the tremendous tightness of his lover's grasping body and Legolas, as the man hit that tight bundle of nerves over and over inside his secret cavity.

The blond froze and soon he screamed his release, his seed splattering his chest as it spilled between his and his husband's bodies. As Legolas came, his spasming channel tightly squeezed Estel's pounding tumescence, causing the dúnadan to scream his climax inside his lover, filling him with his warmth.

As their breathing became normal, they kissed tenderly, Aragorn still cradled between the smooth, slender legs of his Prince Consort. "I love you so much, Beloved; I never thought that I could love you more, but everyday, you surprised me and I do. How can this be so?"

"Perhaps, you are being influenced by the great love you inspire in me—a love that grows by leaps and bounds every day that passes." They kissed again and then lay with their foreheads touching. The Prince Consort spoke first. "That was most wonderful—do you think we could do that once more?" His beautiful lips smiled beguilingly.

Aragorn looked at the Prince with a false put-upon look from his youth. "Again? Must I?" At the stern 'instructor's' look Legolas used to give him during archery lessons long ago, he said. "If I must then I must!" They both laughed joyously then kissed, their passion reigniting.

They made love again with Aragorn inside of Legolas and then once with the Prince taking the King. They were insatiable, their Elven blood fueling their passion.

As Legolas and Estel came for what seemed the thousandth time, the man and elf fell asleep in each other's arms, a warm blanket covering to keep the chill at bay.

The guards in the hall outside the Royal chamber felt nothing amiss as they fell asleep, never noticing the three ancients coming towards them. Neither they nor their Royal charges were in danger for a protecting spell was cast as Gandalf, Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond entered the antechamber of the King and Consort. The room was illuminated by the warm fire glowing in the fireplace and several candles that were lit by the three immortals.

The fine hearing of all ascertained that the newly bonded pair was asleep. Galadriel knew Legolas' mind, having spoken with him earlier, seeing into his heart. Tonight was the night of his great sacrifice and the night of the lovers' great reward.

"Shall we begin?" The Lady said, her voice barely above a whisper but clearly heard by her companions. "As the power of the Rings of the Elven Kings fashioned by Celebrimbor's hand wane, let us use what remains to further serve Middle-earth," Smiling beautifully, she added, "And to thank our beloved sons who have given much to save this world from an Evil that survived for much too long."

With that, the Rings that had remained hidden for so long, were displayed: Narya, the Ring of Fire, worn first by Círdan and now by Gandalf sparkled hotly upon his finger; Vilya, the Ring of Air, borne by Gil-galad who passed it on to Elrond flashed in response to the Maia's; and finally Nenya, the Ring of Water, sat upon Galadriel's pale finger, glowing beautifully, though with less brilliance as before the destruction of the One. Had Sauron himself ever touched these jewels, the gathered three would never have considered using them, but they were wrought by Celebrimbor alone, having hidden them from the Evil Lord.²

Galadriel placed her hand above Gandalf's and Elrond's hand hovered above hers and they each uttered words in ancient Quenya, a soft chant calling upon the Valar for a blessing on what they were attempting. As the words came to a close, the three stood perfectly still, waiting for Legolas.

_The Prince stood on the shore looking across the sea, waiting for the longing to assail him. When the call never came, he smiled gratefully before turning away from the lovely sight of the Grey Havens and turning towards the different, but just as lovely sight of the White City where his heart's desire dwelled._

_As if he'd sprouted wings, he felt himself soar over plains until at last he stood next to the man who owned his heart, his beautiful blue-green eyes filled with love. 'We are one, Coramin—forever.' Legolas said this as he kissed the man tenderly._

Aragorn felt his husband stir next to him, his head on the Prince's chest. When he heard the elf's breathing become erratic, he woke from a pleasant dream where they were standing on their balcony, Legolas declaring his love for the man. He touched the pale cheek of his beautiful love, but became frightened when he felt it's chill. "Legolas? Legolas, Beloved—please wake up!"

When the elf moaned softly, he calmed slightly; but then, his heart raced at what he saw. The wood elf was glowing brightly—much brighter than normal. He was so bright, Estel had to turn away, so blinding was his essence. But his Prince—his lover—was so cold that the King pulled him close trying to warm him. "Please wake up...please."

At the anxious plea, Legolas abandoned his dreams; awaking to the tremendous cold and his crying husband. "A'maelamin—please do not weep. I am well."

"But you are so cold, Legolas." Aragorn's eyes became wide in alarm. "It has started, has it not? The light of the Eldar is leaving you! It is too soon, A'maelamin...No, please, no."

"It is as it should be." The blond touched the dúnadan's bearded cheek before pulling him close. As their lips touched, the light surrounded the man, too, becoming a part of him.

They continued to kiss, the mortal sharing his warmth and the wood-elf his immortality—for a short time, Estel knew what it was to be immortal, his Elven blood singing in joy as his soul called out to the Prince's. They were one and were able to hear each other's thoughts and then it began to fade; but not before a part of the man melded with Legolas and a part of the Sindar melded with Aragorn.

As the two fell asleep again, the light of the Eldar left them, hovering and simmering above before flying out beneath the door into the antechamber of the Royal suite.

The Immortals were praying again—invoking the remaining power of the Elven Rings. As the Rings shimmered and glowed, the Light that was part of the Sindarin Prince (and the King) surrounded the hands of Elrond, Gandalf and Galadriel, becoming one with power dwelling in the jewels.

Galadriel spoke, "I am ready—join with me." The statement was quiet, but powerful and the light obeyed; becoming very small, but as bright as a star, it flew towards the blonde Noldo, striking her lower body to take root there.

When the light struck, the Golden Lady swooned, her male companions catching her before she fell to the floor. "Are you well, my Lady?" Elrond asked with concern as he carried her to the divan near the fireplace.

"I am well," Then brightly, "We are well." With those words, the two males breathed easier as their plan came to fruition. After they were sure that Galadriel was truly alright, Elrond picked her up from the couch (ignoring her protests) and the three left, lifting the protection spell as the guards became fully awake—never knowing anything was wrong.

Lord Celeborn received his wife from his son-in-law, carrying her to their bed. He was relieved to hear that all went well, though something could have gone wrong—no matter how slim the chance. It was all so amazing to him, though he'd seen much in his long life, especially since Galadriel entered that life.

"Do not be so concern, Herven-nin (My husband); it is for the best. Gandalf and Elrond; please go and find your rest, for tomorrow will be a full one for us and for our beloved pair."

"Very well, Dear Lady, but Lord Elrond and I will be here quite early to check on you," The white Wizard said in a fatherly manner. He and the Lord of Imladris took their leave of the Lord and Lady of Lórien who soon found their rest, too.

The next morning, December 26, Year 1 FA

As the man and elf dressed for the morning meal which they planned to share with the family and friends, they both were quiet and introspective.

Legolas sat at the mirror braiding his hair at the temples, the rest he let fall loose.

"I like the waves created by the extra braids you wore yesterday." The man fingered them for emphasis.

"Thank you, Love. Please do not look so bereft; I am fine." Legolas turned from the mirror and stood before his husband, cupping his face as he spoke. "I do not fear this for I am closer to you now; do you not feel it?"

"I do feel it. I could feel you when you went into the bathing chamber; it is how I knew you wanted me in there to scrub your beautiful back. Last night, I felt extraordinary for a short time; I knew what it was to be immortal—what you must have felt everyday! And now, it is gone; you are as mortal as I." Aragorn felt like a thief who stole something precious from Legolas.

"I will repeat what I said to you last night: It is as it should be. I am as I want to be; we will have a full and glorious life together in this world and the next." As the elf spoke with such conviction, Estel believed him and began to except his love's sacrifice. And though he would periodically feel sad about it, he never let it sour what he and Legolas shared.

"Let us go and spend time with our family and friends, greet our loyal subjects and then promptly drop them all to come back here! Last night's coupling seemed such a dream, it could not have been as wonderful as I remember; we must repeat it to know one way or the other!"

"You are most wise, Meleth." The King agreed sagely before they both erupted into laughter. Clasping hands, they opened their bedchamber door only to be brought up short. Standing just on the other side in their sitting room was the King's ada, Lady Galadriel and Gandalf. "Ada! We did not expect to see you here. Good morning to you all."

The King and Consort were a bit uncomfortable with the way their family (for Gandalf was included there) was staring at them. "Is...Is there something wrong? You are all behaving most queerly." Legolas said.

"Everything is quite wonderful, Penneths (Young Ones). More wonderful than you can imagine." Galadriel was standing in front of the couple now, smiling magnificently, her inner-glow more radiant than normal.

"Grandmother, wh..." She placed her fingers to Aragorn's lips.

"Remember what I said to you both about Legolas' sacrifice?" At their nod, she elaborated. "I know—we know—that you made that sacrifice, Dear Legolas. The light of the Eldar left you and it became a part of Estel before leaving you both. With the aid of the three Elven Rings, that light became life—a new life born of your love and sacrifice and is now a part of me."

"What are you saying, My Lady?" Estel then asked Elrond, "Adar, we don't understand."

"A child, Ion-nin; a Peredhil child that is part you and part Legolas. The Lady agreed to be the vessel by which he will be born." Elrond explained. "It is a gift of the Valar; it was foretold long ago, Estel."

"Your father is correct. Just accept it as the miracle that it is—as you both are." Gandalf added kindly.

Galadriel took both their hands and placed them over her womb and they felt a faint, but definite connection with the growing child and knew that they spoke the truth. They both took a page from Pippin and pulled Galadriel into a fierce hug; then, Elrond and Gandalf were treated to the same.

"Come let us go share this wondrous news with our family." Legolas said. He and Aragorn kissed lovingly and they left to join their extended family to tell them that in a year's time, they would be proud parents.

That night when the citadel was quiet, Estel and Legolas dreamed of the future—of a man and an elf and a beautiful dark-haired, blue-eyed little boy who would one day rule the Reunited Kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor.

They lived happily ever after? Oh, yes they did!

¹ wikipedia website (Keyword Yule))

² wikipedia website (Keywords Rings of Power)

A/N: I can't believe that this is the end (or is it the beginning?)! I know that this took a while, but I wanted to do right by our Ranger and Elf—I hope you liked it. There are only a couple things that I want to clarify: Firstly, the idea/title concerning the Protocol Ministers came from an episode of Star Trek: TNG where Luoxana Troi was marrying a man she never met and he brought along his Protocol Minister who proceeded to tell her what she could and couldn't do and what was expected before the marriage; I love this episode and I thought it would be great to give Legolas a whole group of them. Secondly, the wedding rituals/ceremony was completely made up by me (with some modern touches); and lastly, I want thank all the wonderful writers of fanfiction who have provided me with all of the Elvish phrases from which I formed a dictionary/glossary (Sorry if I made mistakes).

Please review and I want to thank of you who have been reviewing—from the first-timers to the faithful—I so appreciate your encouragement. Another's Guilt will be updated next—Thanks for your patience!


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